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Updated: May 6, 2025
Instead of getting angry, Mr. Walkingshaw seemed merely astonished and interested. "Perhaps it was the way I did it," he suggested. She looked up quickly. "Yes," she answered. "Well, my dear, I have lately discovered that I shall never be too old to learn. Just tell me how you'd like to be treated, and I'll try to manage it. I am very fond of you, Jean."
And then again his young heart remembered the sympathetic widow, and he stopped smiling. The backbone of our country is that band of civic heroes who, when turmoil rages and disaster threatens, are the last men to desert the desk. In this glorious company Andrew Walkingshaw was numbered.
"Oh, father, I I still love him." "I wish he'd brush his hair a little better and wear a respectable tie; still, he undoubtedly has some original ideas." Mr. Walkingshaw found himself musing on the artist's outrageous opinions with a new catholicity. They had staggered him at the moment: they began to interest him now. "It's a pity he can't make a little more money," he added.
What I say is done; and what I say shan't be done, is not done!" He had recovered his formidableness now, and the artist's face fell. For a moment he looked gloomily at his father-in-law elect, and then he turned for the door. "We shall see," he said. "You shall not see her again," retorted Mr. Walkingshaw.
His brother had abused him, and he was now broiling in India, torn for ever from his betrothed; his sister had snubbed him, and there she was homeless in London slaving in a hospital; Mrs. Dunbar had smacked his face, and she was an exile in the moors of Ross-shire; and now here was his father, who had plagued and despised him, numbered in the list of the deceased. Alas for Heriot Walkingshaw!
Now, do you know, I could have sworn it was only one." She looked at him steadily. "Heriot, what is the meaning of your conduct?" "To what points in it do you refer, my dear?" "I may tell you I have heard from Charlie Munro." It was remarkable how quickly Mr. Walkingshaw had developed. That reputation he still clung to when he saw her last was no longer a brake upon his downward career.
Walkingshaw and Andrew entered: the senior partner looking, for a habitual diner-out, curiously flushed after his mild indulgence in port; the junior partner's full cheeks bulging with the backwash of a lover's smile. Frank sprang up, and his brother, smiling even more affectionately, took his chair.
It was a case in which principle clashed with principle. "We'll have Gertrude and Hector too," he announced. He had just remembered that Walkingshaw & Gilliflower were briefing Hector in a forthcoming case, and that there had been some discussion in the office as to the precisely proper fee to which, at that moment in his upward career, he was entitled.
"I wish I could hold out hopes," said Andrew sympathetically. Mr. Walkingshaw stirred suddenly. "The doctor's not given me up yet, surely?" he exclaimed in a louder voice. "Hush, hush! It'll only hurry things if you let yourself get excited." "But, Andrew, my dear boy, tell me what he said to you." The junior partner shook his head, kindly but resolutely. "No, no; not yet awhile.
Walkingshaw suddenly saw a vision of her black eyes vivaciously beaming, and for some reason this enabled him to regard Jean's point of view in a wholly new and original light. "Well," said he, "I'm not sure that there isn't something in what you say. I do believe you're right, my dear in fact, I'm positive you're right. The love for a fine woman well, it's a first-rate sensation most refreshing."
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