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His evil star brought him back to London the day before Frances left Sundridge, though, he knew nothing of her departure. I did not know of his return, nor did I know of his remote connection with the terrible events attending her arrival till long after they happened.
He walked over to the window, stood looking out a moment, then came back and resumed his chair before me. "I do not favor your suit with my cousin to any greater extent than I did when we were at Sundridge," I continued, determined that there should be no misunderstanding of my position in that respect, "though since that time I have learned that you are a far better man than I had ever supposed.
After talking with my uncle and my cousins a few minutes, I said: "I have had a long ride and want a good supper Come, Frances, let us go out and buy all the good things in Sundridge." Sir Richard said nothing, and a faint shadow of humiliation came to Frances's face, but practical Sarah settled the question by saying: "Go with him, Frances, and see that he buys enough.
When Hamilton had disappeared, I asked Frances if we should return to Sundridge, and she answering by a nod, we started home, each of us heavy-hearted, one of us weeping pathetically. Her heart had just received its first sharp blow, and I pitied her, for the first one hurts.
When he turned, just before reaching the bend, she kissed her hand to him, murmuring as though speaking to herself, "Good-by, good-by!" Then she sat down and covered her face with her hands. After a short time she rose, dried her eyes, and started home, and in a few minutes I climbed the hill and took a short cut to Sundridge.
Here his voice rose almost to a scream: "I'll take the short run, Ned, and will kill the king! Then to hell after him by way of Tyburn Hill!" He sprang to me, grasped my shoulders fiercely, and spoke as one in a frenzy: "I was right, Ned. She is all I thought she was at Sundridge. When I first knew her I doubted my senses.
Frances Jennings and her younger sister Sarah, who afterwards became the first duchess of the present House of Marlborough, were the daughters of my uncle, Sir Richard Jennings, of Sundridge, near St. Albans.
I speak of this friendship between George Hamilton and me at this time because of the great strain its bonds were soon to have; so great that I am still wondering why they did not break. To close this mention of my own love affair, I would say that at the time of my visit to Sundridge I had reasonable cause to hope for a favorable termination.
How may I apologize or make amends?" I asked. "You can't," he returned. "Ah, but I can and I will, George Hamilton," I answered, determined not to let him put me off without knowing wherein I had offended. "Save what you heard at Sundridge, I have neither done nor said anything unfit to come from a friend. If any man has reported me otherwise, he has lied. If any woman well, she is mistaken."
His first work was a translation from Ovid, followed by commendatory verses prefixed to certain plays of Jonson. Soon afterwards his friendship with F. began. They lived in the same house and had practically a community of goods until B.'s marriage in 1613 to Ursula, dau. and co-heiress of Henry Isley of Sundridge in Kent, by whom he had two dau. He d. in 1616, and is buried in Westminster Abbey.
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