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Updated: May 5, 2025
Trenholme flushed, but she fully understood the sudden blanching of his face at her tidings, for all Roxton was shaken to its foundations when the facts slowly percolated in that direction. "Good Lord!" cried he. "Could that be the shot I heard?" "He was killed at half past nine, sir." "Then it was! A keeper heard it, too and a policeman our Roxton policeman." "That would be Farrow," said Eliza.
Trenholme, I suppose?" she said, her blue eyes meeting his brown ones in calm scrutiny. "Yes," he said, trying desperately to collect his wits. The well-balanced phrases conned while walking up the avenue had vanished in a hopeless blur at the instant they were needed. His mind was in a whirl. "I am Miss Manning," she continued.
On crossing the threshold of the house Trenholme had come at once into a large, long room, which composed the whole lower flat of the dwelling, as appeared from the windows on both sides and from the fact that the staircase went up from one end of it.
Blue and Red came offering cups of tea. "Aren't they pretty?" said the youngest Miss Brown, again lifting her eyes to Trenholme for sympathy in her admiration. "Sh sh ," said the elder ladies, as if it were possible that Blue and Red could be kept in ignorance of their own charms. A man nervously tired can feel acute disappointment at the smallest, silliest thing.
The subtle flattery of this pleaded with her now on the girl's behalf: and perceiving that Alec Trenholme was not amenable to reason, she, like a good woman, condescended to coax him for reason's sake. To a woman the art of managing men is much like the art of skating or swimming, however long it may lie in disuse, the trick, once learnt, is there to command.
Trenholme went on with his writing, and now a curious thing happened. About nine o'clock he again heard steps upon his path, and the bell rang. Thinking it a visitor, he stepped to the door himself, as he often did. There was no one there but a small boy, bearing a large box on his shoulders. He asked for Mrs. Martha.
This, then, was the stage setting: Trenholme, screened by black cedars and luxuriant brushwood, was seated about fifty feet above the level of the lake and some forty yards from its nearest sedges. The lake itself, largely artificial, lay at the foot of the waterfall, which gurgled and splashed down a miniature precipice of moss-covered bowlders.
Robert Trenholme was still obliged to rest his sprained ankle, and was not yet going out, but an opportunity was afforded him of meeting his friendly neighbours, at least the feminine portion of them, in company, sooner than he anticipated. The day before the college reassembled it happened that the sewing-circle connected with the church met at Mrs. Rexford's house.
Trenholme would rather have walked, but he had already observed that the Canadian rustic never walked if he could possibly avoid it, and he supposed there must be some reason for this in the nature of the country.
I imagined you moving gracefully in the arms of others to the dreamy music of the waltz amid the fragrance of flowers. Think how lonely I must have been!" The youngest, handsomest, and poorest of the famous Trenholme sisters sighed. "You haven't quite hit it," she said, plaintively. "I was moving gracefully at the arms of another.
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