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Updated: June 11, 2025
The Rector held strong views on the rare virtue of minding one's own business, and in loyalty to such, deemed it right to refrain from mentioning his opinion as to the wisdom of selecting a native branch of the military service for the heir to Stagholme. The supper passed pleasantly enough in the discussion of general topics all bordering on the great question they had at heart.
Even the mistress of Stagholme was preferable to the young man from London, and besides there were associations. So Dora drew Mrs. Agar into her promenade, and presently the young man got his conge. At first they talked of local topics, and Mrs. Agar, who had a fine sense of hospitality, said her say about the cider-cup.
The mistress of Stagholme was positively crackling with an excitement which even her best friend could not have called suppressed. There was no suppression whatever about it. "So good of you," she panted, "to come, Dora dear!" And she searched madly for her pocket handkerchief. "Not at all," replied Dora, very calmly.
And tradespeople, one finds are not always of the same mind as the Medes and Persians they square matters quietly in the bill. They had to do it very quietly indeed with Mrs. Agar, who endeavoured strenuously to get the best value for her money all through life; a remnant of Jaggery House, Clapham Common, which the placid wealth of Stagholme never obliterated.
"I asked Mark Buthine," he said, "to come ashore with me, because I had reason to suspect your good faith. I can't see now why you should have done this, but I suppose that people who are born liars, as Ruthine says you are, prefer lying to telling the truth. You are coming down now with Ruthine and myself to Stagholme.
And this was the knowledge that before long the little heir's undisputed reign in the nursery would come to an end. With a suburban horror of being a long distance from the chemist, Mrs. Agar protested that she could not possibly remain at Stagholme during the ensuing winter, and that her child must be born at Clapham.
The clerk presently passed into an inner room and fetched therefrom a tin box, upon which were painted in dingy white the letters "J. E. M. A.," and underneath "Stagholme Estate." This the embryo lawyer carefully wiped with a duster, and set it up on some of its fellows immediately behind Mr. Rigg. There was no hurry displayed in this scenic arrangement. Mr.
Agar's manner; she only knew that the mistress of Stagholme seemed to be afraid of looking at the burning papers. When all was consumed both women heaved a sigh of relief. "There," said Mrs. Agar, "I am glad we have been able to save poor Arthur that. These things are so very painful."
"Where do you want to go to?" he inquired, with a gruffness which meant less than it conveyed. "To town, dear." Now Mr. Glynde loved London. In the meantime Dora was standing at the gate of the gamekeeper's little cottage-garden which adjoined the orchard at Stagholme. There were certain women with whom Sister Cecilia did not "get on," and these were by tacit understanding relegated to Dora.
The tones of the big bell striking the hour over the wide portico die away over the lands that still belong to Stagholme, despite the vicissitudes through which all ancient families run. Jem, however, whose childhood and youth had been passed amidst companions with names as good as his, had learnt long ago to keep his pride to himself.
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