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Updated: May 20, 2025
The Lime Avenue seemed a mile long, and yet when she was running down it she saw Lady Walderhurst walking slowly under the trees carrying her touching little basket of sewing in her hand. She was close to the bridge. "My lady! my lady!" she gasped out as soon as she dared. She could not run screaming all the way. "Oh, my lady! if you please!" Emily heard her and turned round.
As, for instance, when she had met for the first time after her engagement, a certain particularly detestable woman of rank, to whom her relation to Walderhurst was peculiarly bitter. The Duchess of Merwold had counted the Marquis as her own, considering him fitted by nature to be the spouse of her eldest girl, a fine young woman with projecting teeth, who had hung fire.
And Lord Walderhurst was to be at Mallowe. Lady Maria mentioned it." "There, mother!" exclaimed Cora. "Well, of course if he is to be there, it will make it interesting," returned her mother, in a tone in which lurked an admission of relief. Emily wondered if she had wanted to go somewhere else and had been firmly directed toward Mallowe by her daughter.
She does not pose to herself as a heroine, but she dwells affectionately on ingenuous mental pictures of what Lord Walderhurst will say. It is just as well that it should be so. It is better for her than fretting would be. Experience helped me to gather from the medical man's letter that his patient is in no condition to be told news of any kind, good or bad."
Lord Walderhurst simply looked at her. He was a man of but few words. Women who were sprightly found him somewhat unresponsive. In fact, he was aware that a man in his position need not exert himself. The women themselves would talk. They wanted to talk because they wanted him to hear them. Mrs. Ralph talked. "She is the most primeval person I know.
She was leaning back in her chair laughing enchantingly at one of Miss Brooke's sparkling remarks when Lord Walderhurst, who sat next to her, said suddenly, glancing round the table: "But where is Miss Fox-Seton?" It was perhaps a significant fact that up to this moment nobody had observed her absence. It was Lady Maria who replied. "I am almost ashamed to answer," she said.
Lord Walderhurst stood clenching and unclenching his hands as they hung by his sides. He did not like to believe that his fever had touched his brain, but he doubted his senses hideously. "My good Maria," he said, "I do not understand a word you say, but I must go and see her." "And kill her, if she has a breath left! You will not stir from here. Thank Heaven! here is Dr. Warren."
The next moment, however, Hester Osborn fell upon her with embraces. "You are an angel to me," she cried. "You are an angel, and I can't thank you. I don't know how." Emily Walderhurst patted her shoulder as she kindly enfolded her in warm arms. "Don't thank me," she half whispered emotionally. "Don't. Just let us enjoy ourselves." Alec Osborn rode a good deal in these days.
"It may take a good deal of money to buy the old things," gasped Emily. "They are not cheap in these days. People have found out that they are wanted." "It won't cost twenty thousand pounds," Walderhurst answered. "It is a farm-house after all, and you are a practical woman. Restore it. You have my permission." Emily put her hands over her eyes.
"Yes," was the response. Walderhurst went to him. "May I see her?" "No, Lord Walderhurst. Not yet." "Does that mean that it is not yet the last moment?" "If that moment had obviously arrived, you would be called." "What must I do?" "There is absolutely nothing to be done but to wait. Brent, Forsythe, and Blount are with her." "I am in the position of knowing nothing. I must be told.
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