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Updated: May 15, 2025
Florence had many admirers; a pretty woman, who habitually rules a rich father, is bound to have many admirers. But she had two in particular; her cousin, Ralph Martin, who had been apprenticed to her father, and Adam Tellwright, a tile manufacturer at Turnhill. These four the father and daughter and the rivals had been playing tennis that Saturday afternoon.
Thank you very much for all your kindness. If I go to Canada, of course I shall come and see you before I leave." He let her shake his hand. For two days he was haunted by memories of kidney omelettes and by the word "miser." Miser, eh? Him a miser! Him! Ephraim Tellwright was a miser but him! Then the natty servant gave notice, and Mrs.
The principal thing in favour of Ralph Martin was that he and Florence had always been "something to each other." Indeed of late years it had been begun to be understood that the match was "as good as arranged." It was taken for granted. Then Adam Tellwright had dropped like a bomb into the Bostock circle. At the start his case was regarded as hopeless, and Ralph Martin had scorned him.
Balsamo stared at him; did not even ask him to sit down. "Why do you come to me? You don't believe in me," said Balsamo, curtly. "Why waste your money?" "How can I tell whether I believe in you or not," protested Adam Tellwright, the shrewd man of business, very lamely. "I've come to see what you can do." Balsamo snapped his fingers. "Sit down then," said he, "and put your hands on this cushion.
He had honestly earned Adam's fiver, and since Ralph had refused the two pounds "I have seen their hands," said Balsamo the next day to Adam Tellwright. "All is clear. In a month you will be engaged to her." "A month?" "A month. I regret that I had a painful scene with your rival. But of course professional etiquette prevents me from speaking of that.
Most people had a vague feeling that Ralph had not been treated fairly. Mr Bostock had this feeling. Yet why? Nothing had been settled. Florence's heart was evidently still open to competition, and Adam Tellwright had a perfect right to compete. Still, most people sympathized with Ralph. But Florence did not. Young girls are like that. Now the rivals stood about equal.
A copy of the previous evening's Signal was lying on an empty deck-chair. It had been out all night, and was dampish. Tellwright picked it up, having finished his tea, and threw a careless eye over it. He was determined to talk about something. "By Jove!" he said. "That Balsamo johnny is coming to Hanbridge!" "Yes, didn't you know?" said Florence, agreeably bent on resuscitating the corpse.
"What! The palmistry man?" asked Mr Bostock, with a laugh. "Yes." And Adam Tellwright read: "'Balsamo, the famous palmist and reader of the future, begs to announce that he is making a tour through the principal towns, and will visit Hanbridge on the 22nd inst., remaining three days.
I need not say that he had no belief whatever in palmistry, and was not in the least superstitious. A young man was seated at a desk, a stylish young man. Adam Tellwright smiled, as one who expected the stylish young man to join in the joke. But the young man did not smile. So Adam Tellwright suddenly ceased to smile. "Are you Mr Balsamo?" Adam inquired. "No. I'm his secretary." His secretary!
But Adam Tellwright soon caused gossip to sing a different tune, and Ralph Martin soon ceased to scorn him. Adam undoubtedly made a profound impression on Florence Bostock. He began by dazzling her, and then, as her eyes grew accustomed to the glare, he gradually showed her his good qualities. Everything that skill and tact could do Tellwright did. The same could not be said of Ralph Martin.
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