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Mrs Iver was there, and Mrs Trumbler the vicar's wife, a meek woman, rather ousted from her proper position by the energy of Miss Swinkerton; she was to manage the Bible-reading department, which was not nearly so responsible a task as conducting the savings-bank, and did not involve anything like the same amount of supervision of other people's affairs.
Going on, he met the Iver carriage; Iver and Neeld sat in it, side by side; they waved their hands in careless greeting and went on talking earnestly. On the outskirts of the town he came on Miss Swinkerton and Mrs Trumbler walking together.
The people who would come and the people who wouldn't and all that, you know." "There are always so many questions about funerals," sighed Mrs Trumbler. "I hate funerals," said Mina. "I'm going to be cremated." "That may be very well abroad, my dear," said Miss S. tolerantly, "but you couldn't here. The question is, will Janie Iver go and if she does, where will she walk?"
Mina and Neeld did not quite understand why Cecily turned so suddenly and put her hand in Harry's, saying, "No, Harry, there's no difference now." Meanwhile, down in Blentmouth, Miss Swinkerton looked up from the local paper and remarked across the table to Mrs Trumbler: "Here's an announcement that Lady Tristram will give a ball at Blent in January.
But I don't know anybody in the neighborhood " "My dear, she'll have her house in town in the season. The only reason the late Lady Tristram didn't do so was Well, you can see that for yourself, Mrs Trumbler!" "What must the Ivers think about it! What an escape! How providential!" "Let us hope it'll be a lesson to Janie.
"Leaving your wife behind, I suppose?" "Oh, she doesn't mind Mrs Trumbler. But I do." "Well, there's a good deal of cackling up here too. But tell me about the new girl." Lord Southend did not appear to consider his own question "cackling" or as tending to produce the same. "I've only seen her once.
It was Cecily's birthday, and the occasion, which was to be celebrated by a dinner-party, must be marked by a present also. Coming out, Gainsborough sighted Mrs Trumbler coming up High Street and Miss S. coming down it. He doubled up a side street to the churchyard, Neeld pursuing him at a more leisurely pace.
If I corresponded with Mr Tristram it would be one thing; if Madame Zabriska and to be sure she has nobody to look after her; that Major is no better than any silly young man chooses to do so, it's quite another. All I say is that, so far as Blent is concerned, there's an end of Mr Tristram. Why, he hasn't got a penny piece, my dear." "So I heard," agreed Mrs Trumbler.
The mere departure from Fillingford shrank to nothing in comparison with the attendant circumstances supplied by Mr Gainsborough. "They don't know what to think at Fairholme," Mrs Trumbler reported. "I dare say not, my dear," said Miss S. grimly. "They were dining there that very night, and not a word was said about it; and none of them saw Mr Tristram.
You'll remember that I told you that two months ago, Mrs Trumbler." "Yes, Miss Swinkerton, but that was before all the " "Really I'm not often wrong, my dear," interrupted Miss S. decisively. "Well, I hope there won't be any more changes," sighed Mrs Trumbler. "They're so very startling." She might rest in peace awhile.
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