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Updated: July 22, 2025
And then the uncompromising neutrality of her expression deepened so plainly that he hastened to add: "I’m H. Wyncoop Clover." "Oh!" she said. And then smiled, too; having heard the name before. "Why don’t you ask me my business?" went on H. Wyncoop Clover. "I must have come for some reason, you know." "I didn’t know it," said Mrs. Rosscott—"I don’t know anything about you yet."
Rosscott who was approaching, all in cerise with lines of Chantilly lace sweeping about her. It seemed a cruelty to every woman present that she should be so beautiful. Jack wanted to fly and fall at her feet, but he couldn’t, of course—he was tied to her hyphenated cousin.
"That’s awfully good of you," Jack said, looking eagerly to where Holloway and Mrs. Rosscott stood together. "Oh, no it isn’t," said Miss Lorne, "I don’t take any credit for it—I was born so. Dear Betty was a regular flirt when she was ever so small, but I never was. I’m sincere and I can’t take any credit for it. I was born so." Holloway was talking and Mrs. Rosscott’s eyes were uplifted to his.
"Because," she added mischievously, "I don’t suppose that it’s on account of my cousin Maude that you rebel at the approach of Monday." "No," said Jack. "It may not be polite to say so to you, but I wasn’t in the least thinking of your cousin." "Poor girl!" said Mrs. Rosscott thoughtfully; "and she was so sweet to you, too. Mustn’t it be terrible to have a face like that?"
I can swear that, and I shall be able to swear the same thing when I’m as old as my Aunt Mary." Mrs. Rosscott lowered her eyes. "Who could ask more?" she said softly. "I could," said Jack—"but I’ll wait first." Joshua was at the station to meet his mistress, and Lucinda, full to the brim with curiosity, sat on the back seat of the carryall.
Of course you will meet me at the train and leave me at the interview. These are the fundamental rules of my game. I know that you are clever and before we have left the station you will know that I am. As arch-conspirators we shall surely win out together, won’t we? Yours very truly, Bertha Rosscott.
"That’s kind of you, after my speech," she said smiling, "but let’s wait a bit before we begin to talk about me. Let us talk about you first—you’re the company, you know." "But there’s nothing to tell about me," said Jack, "except that I’m always in difficulties—financial—or otherwise,—oftenest ’otherwise,’ I must confess." "But you have a rich aunt, haven’t you?" said Mrs. Rosscott.
Rosscott began it all by having the highest cart and the fastest cob in the stables and making for the forest just as the clock was tolling ten. "Do you want a groom?" asked Burnett, who was occasionally very cruel. "Well, I’m not going to wait for him to get ready now," replied his sister, who had sharp wits and did not disdain to give even her own family the benefit of them.
You don’t want me to cease to, do you?" "Why do women always say ’Don’t be silly’?" he queried. "I wish I could find one who wanted to be very original, and so said, ’Do be silly’, just for a change." "Dear me, if women were to beg men to be silly what would happen?" Mrs. Rosscott exclaimed. "The majority are so very foolish without any special egging on."
His heart was athirst for Mrs. Rosscott. She was back in her own library the next night, and he rushed thither as soon as his first day’s labor was over. She was prettier and her eyes were sweeter and brighter than ever as she rose to meet him and held out—first one hand, and then both.
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