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Updated: June 9, 2025
He was leaning back in his chair; his plaything was on the floor, and he was looking vacantly at the light that came in through the window. I found Mrs. Tenbruggen at the other end of the room, in the act of ringing the bell. Nothing in the least out of the ordinary way seemed to have happened. When the attendant had answered the bell, we left the room together. Mr. Gracedieu took no notice of us.
When he had generously received his poor helpless cousin under his own roof, Miss Jillgall's gratitude and sense of duty impelled her to write and tell Mrs. Tenbruggen how happy she was as a member of our family. Let me confess that I began to listen more attentively when the narrative reached this point.
After leaving Eunice, my one desire was to be alone. I had much to think of, and I wanted an opportunity of recovering myself. On my way out of the house, in search of the first solitary place that I could discover, I passed the room in which we had dined. The door was ajar. Before I could get by it, Mrs. Tenbruggen stepped out and stopped me. "Will you come in here for a moment?" she said.
There was nothing to interest me in the address, as I ought to have foreseen, if I had not been too much excited for the exercise of a little common sense. Miss Jillgall's wonderful friend was only remarkable by her ugly foreign name MRS. TENBRUGGEN. Here I am, writing my history of myself, once more, by my own bedside. Some unexpected events have happened while I have been away.
Time enough to cast him out to the feather-bed and the fleas on the night before your marriage. Besides, I shall be in and out constantly for I mean to cure your father. The tongue of scandal is silent in my awful presence; an atmosphere of virtue surrounds Mamma Tenbruggen. Think of it." I did think of it. Philip came to us, and lived in our house.
Tenbruggen really had some motive of her own for endeavoring to identify the adopted child, the preservation of the picture must have led her straight to the end in view. The most casual opportunity of comparing Helena with the portrait of Mrs.
Her friend's name not very attractive to English ears was Mrs. Tenbruggen; they had first become acquainted under interesting circumstances. Miss Jillgall happened to mention that my father was her only living relative; and it turned out that Mrs. Tenbruggen was familiar with his name, and reverenced his fame as a preacher.
"How flushed you are!" she said. "Let me feel your pulse." I laughed, and left her with Mr. Philip Dunboyne. Passing my father's door, I looked in, anxious to see if he was in the excitable state which Mrs. Tenbruggen had described. Yes; the effect which she had produced on him how, she knows best had not passed away yet: he was still talking.
Had he thought of an employment? Not yet. Which way had he walked? Anyway: he had not noticed where he went. These replies were all made in a tone that offended me. I took an opportunity of consulting Mrs. Tenbruggen. She had anticipated that I should appeal to her opinion, as a woman of the world. I shall not set down in detail what she said.
We could say no more at that time. Our friends in advance were waiting for us. We joined them at once. If I had felt any doubt of the purpose which had really induced Mrs. Tenbruggen to leave London, all further uncertainty on my part was at an end. She had some vile interest of her own to serve by identifying Mr.
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