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Updated: May 31, 2025
Dallam had been, to put it politely, fiction. She spent the rest of the afternoon writing letters home, pausing at periods to look out of the window. Occasionally it appeared that her reflections were amusing. At seven o'clock Howard arrived, flushed and tired after his day of rest. "By the way, Honora, I saw Trixy Brent at the Club, and he said you wouldn't go riding with him."
"Trixy, what does she remind you of?" "Cleopatra," cried Warry Trowbridge, with an attempt to be gallant. "Eternal vigilance," said Mr. Brent, and they sat down amidst the laughter, Lily Dallam declaring that he was horrid, and Mrs. Chandos giving him a look of tender reproach. But he turned abruptly to Honora, who was on his other side. "Where did you drop down from, Mrs. Spence?" he inquired.
When Honora and Howard drove up to the door in the deepening twilight, every window was a yellow, blazing square, and above the sound of voices rose a waltz from "Lady Emmeline" played with vigour on the piano. "My dear, how sweet you look in that coral! I've been so lucky to-night," she added in Honora's ear; "I've actually got Trixy Brent for you."
This explanation, which seemed entirely plausible to Honora, appeared to afford great amusement to Brent, and even to Mrs. Kame. "When did you come to life?" demanded Brent. "Yesterday," said Mr. Grainger, quite as solemnly as before. Mrs. Kame glanced curiously at Honora, and laughed again. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Trixy," she said. "Why?" he asked innocently.
"What do you think of him?" he asked. "He's adorable," declared Honora. Would you like to try him?" "Oh might I? Sometime?" "Why not to-day now?" he said. "I'll send him over to your house and have your saddle put on him." Before Honora could protest Mrs. Chandos came forward. "It's awfully sweet of you, Trixy, to offer to send me to Fanny's, but Warry says he will drive me over.
His son looked after him with a solicitous tenderness quite new in all their experience of Charley. Captain Hammond and Trixy kept in a corner together, and talked in saccharine undertones, looking foolish, and guilty, and happy. They reached Liverpool late in the evening, and drove to the Adelphi.
From self-indulgence to self-denial even though inspired by terror is a far cry. And Trixton Brent had evidently prepared his menu with a satanic purpose. "What! No entree, Lula? I had that sauce especially for you." "Oh, Trixy, did you really? How sweet of you!" And her liquid eyes regarded, with an almost equal affection, first the master and then the dish.
He was roused at length to the consciousness of having been lifted and hurled; and found himself prostrate on the ground, face downward, with the rain flooding him. Trixy lay at his side, flat like himself, her head stretched out among the stones. They seemed to lie in a vacuum, in the very hollow of the storm.
Grainger and I are going to lunch with you." "How nice!" said Honora, with such a distinct emphasis of relief that Mrs. Kame looked at her queerly. "What a fool Trixy was, with all his experience, to get mixed up with that Chandos woman," that lady remarked as they passed through the hallway. "She's like molasses one can never get her off. Lucky thing he found Cecil and me here.
Trixy!" was Edith's thought; and ridiculous and out of place as the emotion was, her only desire still was an almost uncontrollable desire to laugh outright. What a horrible what an unheard-of blunder the child had made! She stood tracing figures on the grass with the point of her parasol, feeling strangely apathetic still.
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