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Updated: June 24, 2025
It was not quite ten o'clock when Ronald Surbiton rang the bell, and was turned into the drawing-room to face an American aunt for the first time in his life. "Miss Schenectady?" said he, taking the proffered hand of the old lady and then bowing slightly. He pronounced her name Schenectady, with a strong accent on the penultimate syllable. "Schenectady," corrected his hostess.
But now, was he not a bloomin' Dook, palpably in the sight of common men? Then round the corner to the right bell banged furiously and so along the road to Surbiton. Whoop for Freedom and Adventure! Every now and then a house with an expression of sleepy surprise would open its eye as he passed, and to the right of him for a mile or so the weltering Thames flashed and glittered.
So that he felt uncomfortable in the train, and wished the journey were over and he was back again living with his unmarried sister in Surbiton.
There was something in Sybil's tone that made Ronald look quickly at her. She said the word as though she, too, had something to regret. "Not in my experience," answered Surbiton, with the decision of a man past loving or being loved. "How dreadfully gloomy! One would think you had done with life, Mr. Surbiton," said Sybil, laughing.
"Had you any difficulties?" "None whatever," answered his father, crossing his legs and preparing to be communicative. "Stapleton had been all over the ground before and knew every point. We went first to Surbiton Workhouse, since she told Felton she stayed there. They found the entry for us. Then we went on to Hartley, which is quite a small village and off the main road.
"Oh dear, no, thanks, quite the contrary," he answered. "Because if it is you might Sarah, I think you could tell Miss Josephine that Mr. Surbiton is in the parlor, could not you?" "Oh, if it is any inconvenience" Ronald began, misunderstanding the form of address Miss Schenectady used to her handmaiden. "Why?" asked Miss Schenectady, in some astonishment.
"I think it would be something different if it were quite certain. Perhaps it would be something much less interesting, but much better." "I think you are a little confused, Mr. Surbiton," said Sybil, and as she smiled, Ronald could see her face reflected in the mirror. "I yes that is I dare say I am," said he, hesitatingly. "But I know exactly what I mean."
Charley got away in perfect time to enjoy whatever there might be to be enjoyed at the dancing saloon of Seville, and Undy Scott returned to his club. Then all was again quiet at Surbiton Cottage. Captain Cuttwater, who had perhaps drunk the bride's health once too often, went to sleep; Katie, having taken off her fine clothes, roamed about the house disconsolate, and Mrs.
Pixie felt a chill of foreboding as she drove through the trim Surbiton streets and noticed girls like herself walking demurely beside mother or governess, with laced-in boots, gloved bands, and silky manes flowing down their backs in straight, uninterrupted flow. She looked down at her own new, stout, little boots. Sixteen buttons in all, and only one missing!
"There is something the matter, Ronald," she said at last, resolved to make short work of the revelation of her feelings. "There is something very much the matter." "Well?" said Surbiton, beginning to be alarmed. "You know, Ronald dear, somehow I think you have thought honestly, I know you have thought for a long time that you were to marry me."
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