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Updated: May 8, 2025
"There, go away; I must arrange about seeing that girl." There is scarcely time for Lady Rylton to make arrangements for a private interview with her daughter-in-law, as Mrs. Bethune has scarcely left her room before that small person knocks at the door. And there is, perhaps, a slight touch of confusion on the older woman's face as Tita enters.
If she had been planning a revenge, she could hardly have arranged it better. Rylton looks back at her. He is silent, but she reads the disturbance of his soul in his firmly shut mouth, and the little, quick, flittering frown that draws his brows together in momentary rapidity.
It is detestable, of course. One would like a girl in his own rank, but there are so few of them with money, and when there is one, her people want her to marry a Duke or a foreign Prince so tiresome of them!" "It is all such folly," says Margaret, knitting her brows. "Utter folly," says Lady Rylton. "That is what makes it so wise!
"Well, wise or not, we lived in harmony," says Lady Rylton with a sigh and a prolonged sniff at her scent-bottle. "With us it was peace to the end." "Certainly; it was peace at the end," says Mrs. Bethune solemnly.
She married very badly; went abroad with her husband; buried him in Montreal; and came home again. Her purse is as slender as her figure, and not half so well worth possessing. She says she is twenty-eight, and to her praise be it acknowledged that she speaks the truth. Even good women sometimes stammer over this question! "My sin, my sin?" demands she now gaily, smiling at Lady Rylton.
But that the girl is guilty, even in thought guilty, she does not believe; and now she speaks and to this woman of all others And yet if she does speak, ruin will probably come out of it to Tita. She hesitates; she is lost! "Oh, go on!" says Lady Rylton, who can be a little vulgar at times where the soul is coarse, the manner will be coarse too. "There is a cousin!" says Marian slowly. "A cousin?
"Of course," says Rylton, who now feels he is in the wrong, "I am very sorry that I that I " "Yes, so am I," with a saucy little tilting of her chin. "Sorry," continues Rylton, with dignity, "that I felt it my duty to to " "Make a fool of yourself? So am I!" says Lady Rylton. After this astounding speech there is silence for a moment or two. Then Rylton, in spite of himself, laughs.
She has raised herself again from his unwilling arms, and is gazing at him feverishly. So wild is her mood, so exalted in its own way, that she does not mark the coldness of his mien. "What is that little fool to you? Nothing! A mere shadow in your path!" "She is my wife," says Rylton steadily. "And such a wife!" Marian laughs nervously, strangely. "Besides," eagerly, "that might be arranged."
"I have nothing, really. But you say this house must go?" "Not if you will help me to keep it." "I should not like to live here," says Tita, with some haste. And then in a low tone, "Your mother would live here?" "Yes, certainly." "Well, and I I have been very unhappy with Uncle George," says she. Her air is so naïve that Rylton bursts out laughing.
"Yours! yours!" interrupts she angrily that old wound had always rankled. "It is not my world! I have nothing to do with it. I do not belong to it. Your mother showed me that, even so long ago as when we were first" there is a little perceptible hesitation "married". "Hang my mother!" says Rylton violently. "I tell you my world is your world, and if not well, then I have no desire to belong to it.
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