United States or Kenya ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Thurwell, lighting a fresh cigar, "who turns out to have been a spy or detective of some sort. Of course I knew nothing of it at the time in fact, I've only just found it out; but it seems he ransacked Falcon's Nest and discovered some papers which he avowed quite openly would hang Mr. Maddison. But what's become of him I don't know." "I suppose he didn't disclose the nature of the papers?"
They parted without another word. Bernard Maddison kept his engagement that evening, and dined alone with Lady Thurwell and Helen. There had been some talk of going to the opera afterwards, but no one seemed to care about it, and so it dropped through. "For my part," Lady Thurwell said, as they sat lingering over their dessert, "I shall quite enjoy an evening's rest. You literary men, Mr.
So when Lady Thurwell returned from her party, and was sitting in her room in a very becoming dressing gown, yawning and thinking over the events of the evening, there was a little tap at the door, and Helen entered, similarly attired. "Please tell me all about it," she begged, drawing up a chair to the fire. "My headache is quite gone." "So I should imagine," remarked Lady Thurwell.
Her words fell sharp and clear upon the still air. A tremor passed through his whole frame, and the light of a sudden understanding flashed across his face. He was his old self again, and more than his old self. "You are joking, of course, Miss Thurwell?" he said quietly. "You do not mean that seriously?" She caught her breath, and looked at him.
"I scarcely think that," Mr. Thurwell said thoughtfully. "They would not have kept altogether in the background and let Scotland Yard take the lead, if it had been so. What is it, Roberts?" The servant had entered bearing an orange-colored envelope on a salver, which he carried towards Helen. "A telegram for Miss Thurwell, sir," he said. She took it and tore it open.
"He's had plenty of time to get round," remarked Lord Lathon, throwing down his gun. "Perhaps he's resting." Mr. Thurwell shook his head. "No; he wouldn't do that," he said. "He was as keen about getting here as any of us. Hark! what was that?" A faint sound was borne across the moor on the lazily stirring breeze.
Sir Geoffrey Kynaston was engaged to Miss Thurwell, you know, and she was one of the first to find him." "Dear me! Dear me! I remember all about it now, to be sure," Mr. Levy exclaimed. "The murderer was never found, was he? Got clean off?" "That's so," assented Mr. Benjamin. "Dad, it's a rum thing, but I was interested in that case. There was something queer about it. I read it every bit.
I simply refused to come away." "Well, I suppose I must forgive you, or you won't come again," Lady Meltoun said. "But now you are here, you must really stop and see Edgar. When every one has gone we will go up to the nursery, and in the meantime you may make yourself useful by taking Lady Thurwell out to her carriage. I'm afraid there's rather a crush."
Benjamin placed a chair for her, and took up his favorite position on the hearthrug. "I hope so, Miss Thurwell," he said quietly. "First of all, of course you are aware that Mr. Maddison's arrest was as much of a surprise to us as to any one. We neither had any hand in it, nor should we have dreamed of taking any step of the sort." "I thought it could not be you," she answered.
It was the outpouring of a richly stored, cultured mind the perfect expression of perfect matter. The talk had drifted toward Italy, and the art of the Renaissance. Mr. Thurwell had made some remark upon the picturesque beauties of some of the lesser-known towns in the north, and Bernard Maddison had taken up the theme with a new enthusiasm. "I am but just come back from such a one," he said.
Word Of The Day