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Updated: April 30, 2025
But if it were true, then she must look after her niece. And even if it were not true, in which case she would never have the girl at Mistletoe again, yet she could not ignore her presence in the house. It was now the 18th of January. Lord Rufford was to go on the following day, and Arabella on the 20th. The invitation had not been given so as to stretch beyond that.
Then it was felt that Kate Masters had had the best of that little encounter. "Yes; I got one there," said Lord Rufford, while his friends were laughing at him. At length Captain Glomax was seen in the road and Tony was with him at once, whispering in his ear that the hounds if allowed to go on would certainly run into Dillsborough Wood.
Afterward, after he had sufficiently remembered that a whiskey certainty might easily lead up to a sober perjury, he had admitted the possible doubt. But now Flemister's taunt made assurance doubly sure. Moreover, the arch-plotter was not denying the fact of the conspiracy with "The Killer." "Rufford is a blood-thirsty devil like yourself," the other man was saying calmly.
"I couldn't meet him, aunt; I couldn't indeed. Mamma doesn't think that he is behaving well." To the Duchess condemnation from Lady Augustus almost amounted to praise. She felt sure that Mr. Morton was a worthy man who would not probably behave badly, and though she could not unravel the mystery, and certainly had no suspicion in regard to Lord Rufford, she was sure that there was something wrong.
"Yes, one of 'em was Rufford, as you say, and up to a little bit ago I'd 'a' been ready to swear to the voice of the one you haven't guessed. But now I can't." "Why can't you do it now?" "Sit down and I'll tell you. I've been jarred. Everything I've told you so far, I can remember, or it seems as if I can, but right where I broke off a cog slipped. I must 'a' been drunker than I thought I was.
The delay had already been almost too long. In that case she would not say a word in reply to Lord Rufford, and would allow all that to be as though it had never been. Then again there arose to her mind the remembrance of Rufford Hall, of all the glories, of the triumph over everybody. Then again there was the idea of a "forlorn hope."
"You are coming out yourself I hope," said the Lord. "I have no horses here of my own, but I have told that man Stubbings to send me something, and as I haven't been at Bragton for the last seven years I have nothing proper to wear. I shan't be called a Goarlyite I hope if I appear in trowsers." "Not unless you have a basket of red herrings on your arm," said Lord Rufford.
Arabella, with many expressions of thanks and a good-humoured countenance, left the room, cursing the untowardness of her fate which would let nothing run smooth. Lord Rufford was to come. That at any rate was now almost certain. Up to the present she had doubted, knowing the way in which such men will change their engagements at the least caprice. But the Duchess expected him on the morrow.
It seemed to her as she stood at the lodge gate, having obstinately refused to enter the house, to be an eternity before the fly came to her. When it did come she felt as though her strength would barely enable her to climb into it. And when she was there she wept, with bitter throbbing woe, all the way to Rufford. It was over now at any rate.
If I have said a word which has, unintentionally on my part, given rise to such an idea I can only beg your pardon heartily. If I were to add more after what I have now said perhaps you would take it as impertinence. Yours most sincerely, Rufford. He had desired to make various additions and suggestions which however had all been disallowed by Sir George Penwether.
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