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Updated: June 1, 2025
Diana, his beautiful, unapproachable Diana, would soon, no doubt, be relieved of this young lady, with whom she could have no possible interests in common. And, perhaps, on one of his week-end visits to Tallyn and Beechcote, he might get a few minutes' conversation with Mrs. Colwood which would throw some light on the new guest. Diana meanwhile, assisted by Mrs.
"Sir James wished me to leave him a little," she said, brokenly. "The ambulance will be here directly. They will take him to Lytchett. I thought it should have been Tallyn. But Sir James decided it." "Mother!" Marsham moved toward her, reluctantly "here is a letter no doubt of importance. And it is addressed to you." Lady Lucy gave a little cry.
"Tell me" she laid her hand on his persuasively: "Sir James, of course, knew from the beginning?" "Yes from the beginning that first night at Tallyn. He is coming down this afternoon, dearest. He knew you would want to see him. But it may not be till late." "After all, I know so little yet," she said, bewildered. "Only only what Fanny told me." "What made her tell you?"
But on the grass under the spreading oaks which sheltered the eastern front a few snow-drops were out. And Diana was gathering them. She came toward her visitors with alacrity. "Oh! what a long time since you have been to see me!" Mrs. Roughsedge explained that she had been entertaining some relations, and Hugh had been in London. She hoped that Miss Mallory had enjoyed her stay at Tallyn.
Of her mental qualities, one of the most profitable was a very shrewd power of observation. As she swept slowly along the corridor, which overlooked the hall at Tallyn, none of the details of the house were lost upon her. Tallyn was vast, ugly above all, rich. Henry Marsham, the deceased husband of Lady Lucy and father of Oliver and Mrs.
Heretofore Diana had only appeared in black, the strict black which French dressmakers understand, for it was little more than a year since her father's death. The thought of seeing her in white stirred Mrs. Colwood's expectations. Tallyn Hall was eight miles from Beechcote. The ladies were to drive, but in order to show Mrs.
But whatever he did, an atmosphere went with him that made him beloved. He was extremely poor, and wrote for his living. His opinions won the scorn of moderate men; and every year his influence in Parliament on both sides of the House and with the Labor party increased. On his rare appearance in such houses as Tallyn Hall every servant in the house marked and befriended him.
She had never speculated on his circumstances, and she was constitutionally and rather proudly indifferent to questions of money. Vaguely, of course, she knew that the Marshams were rich and that Tallyn was Lady Lucy's. Beyond, she had never inquired.
Lady Niton could see the extreme delicacy to which the profile had fined down, the bluish or purple shadows here and there on the white skin. Something glittered in the old woman's eyes. She put out a hand from the queer flounced mantle, made out of an ancient evening dress, in which she was arrayed, and touched Diana's. "You know you've heard about those poor things at Tallyn?"
Diana passed through them, drinking in the exaltation of their silence and their strength, yet driven on by the mere weakness and foolishness of love. By following the curve of the down she could reach a point on the hill-side whence, on a rising ground to the north, Tallyn was visible. She hastened thither through the night.
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