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Updated: June 14, 2025
"And so utterly cynical! Do you know, Lady Stonebridge quite shocked mother she told her she didn't believe in marriage at all, and that she thought all men were naturally polygamous!" Later on, Montague came to know "Mrs. Sarey"; and one afternoon, sitting in her Petit Trianon drawing-room, he asked her abruptly, "Why in the world do you want to get into Society?"
"Come along," said the jovial Flanagan; "I think we'll make a hash of it with a vengeance!" Whereat this little breeze blew over. As a matter of fact, we all assisted at the cooking of this celebrated meal, and made a terrific hash of it, which, nevertheless, we relished greatly, and declared we had never tasted such a dinner since we came to Stonebridge House. No more we had!
Even there, if we ventured to lift our voices too near the house, a bad mark was shot at us from a window, and if an unlucky ball should come within range of her claws it was almost certainly "confiscated." I don't suppose Stonebridge House, except for Miss Henniker, was much worse than most schools for "backward and troublesome boys."
All I could do was to take the hand which lay on my arm and hold it in mine. This then was Jack's mystery. This explained his nervous avoidance of all references to home, his sudden changes of manner both at Stonebridge House and in London. Poor Jack! We neither of us spoke for some time; then, as if in answer to the questions I longed to ask, he continued, "I hardly ever saw him.
I flashed a candle in his face. I saw it. I know him now. He was there at Stonebridge with us, and I never knew him. But I know him now. His name is " "For God's sake don't tell me who he is!" implored Shefford. Ignorance was Shefford's safeguard against himself.
All I heard was that the reason he didn't get my letters at Packworth was that he had told me, or thought he had told me, to address my letters to "T," and I had always addressed them to "J." But even had I addressed them correctly, he would only have received the first, as a fortnight after he left Stonebridge he went to London, where he had hitherto been working as a grocer's shop-boy.
He had heard that name. In his memory it had a place beside the name of another village Shefford longed to speak of to this trader. "Yes Stonebridge," replied Withers. "Ever heard the name?" "I think so. Are there other villages in in that part of the country?" "A few, but not close. Glaze is now only a water-hole.
Finally they went away, taking Joe with them. Withers took up the task of getting supper where Joe had been made to leave it. "Shefford, listen," he said, presently, as he knelt before the fire. "I told them right out that you'd been a Gentile clergyman that you'd gone back on your religion. It impressed them and you've been well received. I'll tell the same thing over at Stonebridge.
But it was slow work, as I have said; and I was really relieved when, a week or two afterwards, my uncle made the announcement with which this chapter begins. How I fared, first at Stonebridge House, and subsequently in the City Life for which it was meant to train me, will be the theme of this particular veracious history.
A council of war was immediately held. For once in a way Stonebridge House was unanimous. We sunk all minor differences for a time in the grand question, what should we do? A great many wild suggestions were immediately made. Rathbone undertook, with the aid of any two other fellows, to inflict personal chastisement on the public enemy. This was rejected peremptorily.
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