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Updated: May 12, 2025
Old family friends of her husband were among the number. Let the Tuftons come in April, and perhaps again in May; then they will not feel their exclusion from that seventh heaven of glory, the great culminating crush in July. Scores of young ladies who really loved parties belonged to this set. The mothers and aunts knew Lady Monk's sisters and cousins.
I realised with a pang that breakfast was over; that I had enjoyed a delectable meal; that, by some sort of dainty miracle, she had bemused me into eating and drinking twice my ordinary ration; that she had inveigled me into talking a thing I have never done during breakfast for years it is as much as Marigold's ugly head is worth to address a remark to me during the unsympathetic duty why, if my poached egg regards me with too aggressive a pinkiness, I want to slap it and into talking about those confounded Tuftons with a gusto only provoked by a glass or two of impeccable port after a good dinner.
He found the world a pleasant place, and saw no reason why he should not enjoy himself in his own way whilst he was young. Some day he would marry and sober down, and live as his fathers had done before him; but, meantime, he meant to have his fling. There were other Tuftons who had done the like before him, as his father knew to his cost.
Though but six hours in his senses, he gave a proof of his usual good humour, making it his last request to the sister Tuftons to be reconciled; which they are. His pretty villa, in my neighbourhood, I fancy he has left to the new Lord Lorn. I must tell you an admirable bon mot of George Selwyn, though not a new one; when there was a malicious report that the eldest Tufton was to marry Dr.
This hall was a great square place, with a glowing fire illuminating it, the dancing shadows falling grotesquely upon the pictured Tuftons that lined the walls, and upon the weapons which hung, together with trophies of game, between them.
Its earliest owner was John de Veteripont, from whose family it passed by marriage into the hands of the Cliffords and Tuftons successively, and it is now the property of Sir John Tufton. Tradition records, but on what authority we know not, that Sir Philip Sidney wrote part of his "Arcadia" at this baronial mansion.
And by these signs I knew that she had taken herself again in grip and forbade reference to the agony through which she had passed. Quickly she turned the conversation to the Tuftons. What had happened? I told her meagrely. She insisted on fuller details. So, flogged by her, I related what I had gleaned from Marigold's wooden reports.
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