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Updated: May 4, 2025
I determined to do you a good turn if I could; so I flew up, before answering you, to have a talk with the Tyndals. They were starting a few minutes after us, by my advice, and hadn't come downstairs yet. Ellaline, too, was still in her room, sulking, no doubt, and hadn't said good-bye to Sir Lionel or any of us.
First I persuaded the Tyndals that it would be kindly to invite Miss Lethbridge to travel in their motor to Bideford, whither they also are bound. I said that Sir Lionel feared we would be rather a crowd for his car, as the roads are supposed to be bad. This flattered them, for their motor, which is somewhat more powerful than ours, is the one object for which they live at present.
The Tyndals told me last night that they meant to start at ten, so I went downstairs five minutes before, too late to have to wait about, too early to be called. I expected to find them in the hall, and when they weren't there, I strolled out to see if the motor had come to the door, thinking they might be watching the loading up of their luggage.
Burden, have known the Tyndals for years, and are by way of being friends, yet she works off her little firework epigrams against them when their backs are turned, as she does on everybody. According to her, their principal charm for society in London is their cook; and she says the art treasures in their house are all illegitimate; near-Gobelin, not-quite-Raphaels, and so on.
I think he hates going about in motors that aren't his, because he enjoys being the man at the helm, which is perhaps characteristic of him; however, the Tyndals swept all of us, except Mrs. Norton, away to Delabole to see the slate quarries, and to have the adventure of sliding down a fearfully steep incline in a tiny trolley-car if that's the right word for it.
This last coup of Dick's convinces me of what I've often suspected: he knows something about her past which she is deadly afraid he will tell Sir Lionel. It may be connected with that visit to Venice, when the Tyndals saw her; anyhow, whatever the secret may be, it is serious.
It does seem odd and frumpish not to be in Scotland, but motoring covers a multitude of social sins. Not a word has been said about birds. Our sporting talk is of mufflers, pinions, water-cooled brakes, and chainless drives. The Tyndals have turned up at this hotel, more gorgeous and more bored than ever, but they have taken a fancy to Ellaline Lethbridge, and I am playing it for all it's worth.
Besides, they were delighted at the chance of getting the girl to themselves, as they think they met her years ago in Italy, where it is alleged she has never been. Some school girl escapade, perhaps. You had better do a little catechising, later on. Meanwhile, the Tyndals yearn for the opportunity of pumping. Sir Lionel has quite fiercely prevented them from doing so, up to date.
I was almost sorry for the poor Tyndals, who meant no harm, though they had the air of being so frightfully rich and prosperous that it seemed ridiculous to pity them. "Of course, it could only have been a resemblance," said Mr. Tyndal, with that snubby glare at Mrs. Tyndal which husbands and wives keep for each other.
I am happy to say I even laughed. "Well, that's very funny," said I, as if being pigeon-holed by Sir Lionel and marooned by the Tyndals was the most amusing experience in the world, and I simply delighted in it. "Of course, somebody or other will count noses and miss me after a while. Then they'll have to come back and fetch me, I suppose."
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