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Updated: May 14, 2025
She would like to say to all her acquaintances 'My niece is a Duchess. She would feel a certain fantastic satisfaction in thinking that her millions were being used to build up the decayed fortunes of an English nobleman's family, as well as to 'restore' Roxmouth Castle, which is in a bad state of repair. And she would sacrifice my heart and soul and life to such trumpery ambitions as these!"
If, while they were guests at Abbot's Manor, an engagement between Lord Roxmouth and Maryllia Vancourt could be finally settled, they felt they could all claim a share in having urged the matter on, and 'worked' it. And it was likely that in such a case, Mrs. Fred Vancourt, with millions at her disposal, would be helpful to them in their turn, should they ever desire it.
And it was all through her all through her! How would she ever forgive herself if his austere and honourable reputation were touched in ever so slight a degree by a breath of scandal? Unconsciously, she clasped her little hands and wrung them hard Roxmouth saw the action, and quickly fathomed the inward suffering it indicated.
The love that I mean the love that I seek- -the love that I want the love that I will have," and she raised her hand involuntarily with a slight gesture which almost implied a command "or else go loveless all my days is an honest love, loyal, true and pure! and strong enough to last through this life and all the lives to come!" "If there are any!" interpolated Roxmouth, blandly.
"That sarcophagus," continued his lordship "was a very singular 'find. I suppose you have no clue to the possible identity of the saint or sinner whose ashes repose within it?" "None," replied Walden "Something might probably be discovered if the casket were opened. But that will never happen during my lifetime." "You would consider it sacrilege, no doubt?" queried Roxmouth, with a tolerant air.
If they allude to it, I shall change the subject. And I shall invite Roxmouth and his tame pussy, Mr. Marius Longford, to dinner next week, as guests of Sir Morton Pippitt, that's all." Cicely opened her big dark eyes. "You will actually invite Roxmouth?" "Of course I will of course I MUST. I want everyone here to see and understand how absolutely indifferent I am to him."
What better protection can an 'independent and defenceless female' have than the minister of the parish? I can go to him for a character, ask him for a reference, throw myself and my troubles upon him as upon a rock, and make him answer for me as an honest and well-intentioned parishioner! And I believe he would 'speak up' for me, as the poor folks say, yes, my Lord Roxmouth!
HER choice of a husband? the man she had resolved to wed sooner or later, even if she had to wait till he was senile, and did not know what he was doing when led to the altar? "Mr. Walden is not a man who would be easily allured " "Perhaps not," said Roxmouth, quietly "But I can hardly refuse to accept the witness of my own eyes and ears."
"What a shame it is that you can't be left in peace, Maryllia!" she exclaimed "And all because of your aunt's horrible money! Why doesn't Roxmouth marry Mrs. Fred?" "I wish he would!" said Maryllia, heartily, and then she began to laugh. "Then it would be a case of 'Oh my prophetic soul! mine uncle! And I should be able to say: 'My aunt is a Duchess. Imagine the pride and glory of it!"
Her eyes filled with sudden tears of emotion, but she quickly blinked them away. "Et ce cher Roxmouth?" she queried, suddenly, glancing appreciatively at the rippling gold-brown lights and shades of her friend's hair, the delicate hues of her complexion, and the grace of her form "Has he been to see you in this idyllic retreat?" Maryllia gave a slight gesture of wearied impatience.
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