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Updated: June 10, 2025
Richard alone remained to her, and Phyl. On the morning of Phyl's arrival Miss Pinckney had felt just as though some door had opened to let this visitor in from the world of long ago. It was not only her likeness to Juliet Mascarene, but all the associations that likeness brought with it. Vernons became alive again, as in the good old days. Charleston itself caught some tinge of its youth.
Anne King, young and frail, but not less firm, under stress, than the others of her blood, came back, on her brother's death, and, quietest, most colourless Electra of a lucidest Orestes, making her difficult way amid massed armies and battle-drenched fields, got possession of his buried body and bore it for reinterment to Newport, the old habitation, as I have mentioned, of their father's people, both Vernons and Kings.
"I don't wonder at you loving Vernons," said Phyl. "I was just the same about our place in Ireland, Kilgobbin I thought it would kill me to leave it." "Tell me about it," said Miss Pinckney. Phyl told, or tried to tell.
Do what she could she was unable to escape from the incident of last night, it was as though those strong arms had not quite released their hold upon her, as though Pan had broken from the bushes, shown her by his magic things she had never dreamed of, and vanished. It was nearly two o'clock when they reached Vernons.
The Vernons had also a second claim to superiority over the Garnetts, inasmuch as they were the proud possessors of an elder brother, a remote and learned person who gained scholarships, and was going to be Prime Minister when he was grown up. Dan at eighteen, coaching with a tutor preparatory to going up to Cambridge, was removed by continents of superiority from day-school juniors.
At Haddon he was a prime favourite with all alike. He had entered the service of the Vernons soon after the monasteries were dissolved, in the time of Henry VIII., and had grown old in his office.
Prue's message, her own likeness to Juliet, Juliet's letters, the little arbour, those and the magic of Vernons had worked upon her mind singly and together, exalting her into a soul-state utterly beyond all previous experience.
But to-night he was quite a different being; to-night, in some mysterious way, he managed to convey the impression, pleasing enough, that he had come to see her and her alone. As they stood together for a moment, he led the talk into Charleston channels, asking about this person and that till the folk at Vernons came on the tapis.
Her rightful cognomen was Lady Hayes, and she was the elderly, very elderly, widow of an estimable gentleman who had been created a Baronet in recognition of services rendered to his political party. The Garnetts felt that it was very stylish to possess an aunt with a title, and introduced her name with an air when the Vernons grew superior on the subject of "the grounds."
At one time, during the first couple of days at Vernons, her heart had moved mysteriously towards him; the way he had connected himself through Prue's message with the love story of Juliet had drawn her towards him, but that spell had snapped; she was conscious only of friendliness towards Richard Pinckney. Why, then, this sudden pain caused by Silas's words? "How do you know?" she flashed out.
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