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Updated: May 6, 2025
When morning came she could not endure the thought that he was going away without that assurance from her own lips of which he had spoken. Mr. Tytherleigh would call to see her at one o'clock, but there were three or four long hours to get rid of before then, and in the end she dressed herself and went boldly to his apartments in Albemarle Street, where she arrived about eleven o'clock.
Tytherleigh, as if reluctant to part from her, returned to Charlotte Street in the cab at her side. During their ride back she began to experience a curious sensation of dependence and helplessness.
Fan readily consented, and when he had taken the picture into the house for her, he got into the cab, and they drove off to the neighbourhood of Portman Square. In Quebec Street they found what they wanted two spacious and prettily furnished rooms on a first floor in a house owned by a Mrs. Fay. A respectable woman, very attentive to her lodgers, Mr. Tytherleigh said, and known to Mr.
Then mother said, 'That is the church I was married in, Fan, and where you were christened. But I do not know the name of the church, nor of the street it is in." Mr. Tytherleigh took down this information. "I shall soon find it," he said; and promising to write or see her again in two or three days' time, he left her. She had not so long to wait.
Tytherleigh instructed her in the mysterious art of drawing a cheque, and as a beginning he showed her how to write one payable to self for twenty-five pounds; then after handing it over the counter and receiving five bank-notes for it, they left the bank and proceeded to a stationer's in Oxford Street, where Fan ordered her cards. Mr.
"One question more, Miss Affleck: do you happen to know where your mother was born?" "She came from Norfolk." Mr. Tytherleigh rested an elbow on the table, and thrusting his fingers through his hair, stared down at the note-book in which he had been writing down her answers. "How strange how very strange!" he remarked.
Presently he added, "We must find out where you were baptised, Miss Affleck; you do not know, I suppose?" She could not tell him, and after some further conversation, and hearing a brief sketch of her life, her visitor rose to go. "Mr. Tytherleigh," said Fan, "I remember something now I wish to tell you.
From Quebec Street they went to the London and Westminster Bank in Stratford Place, where Fan was made to sign her name in a book; and as she took the pen into her hand, not knowing what meaning to attach to all these ceremonies, Mr. Tytherleigh, standing at her elbow, whispered warningly "Frances Eden." She smiled, and a little colour flushed her cheeks.
And that was all the explanation she got from Mr. Tytherleigh. Fan, alone in her fine apartments, her occupation gone, found the time hang heavily on her hands. To read a little, embroider a little, walk a little in Hyde Park each day, was all she could do until Mr. Travers should come to her and explain everything and be her guide and friend. But the slow hours, the long hot days passed, and Mr.
"But I might lose my place then," said Fan, surprised at the cool way in which Mr. Tytherleigh invited her to take a holiday, and thinking of what the grim and terrible manager would say. "I cannot say more," he returned. "I have only stated Mr. Eden's wishes, and certainly think it would be better not to risk missing him by going out tomorrow.
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