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Updated: June 25, 2025
Sydney laid her down again on the pillow, gave her a last kiss, and ran out of the room. In the corridor she heard Linley's voice on the lower floor. He was asking one of the servants if Miss Westerfield was in the house or in the garden. Her first impulse was to advance to the stairs and to answer his question. In a moment more the remembrance of Mrs. Linley checked her.
She justified herself, instead of leaving it to events to justify her. "Miss Westerfield comes here," she argued, "on an errand that is beyond reproach an errand of mercy. Why should you leave the house?" "In justice to you," Linley answered. Mrs. Presty could restrain herself no longer. "Drop it, Catherine!" she said in a whisper.
He tossed a penny to Syd as she left the room; and took the opportunity of binding his bargain with Syd's mother. "Mind! if I take you to New York, I'm not going to be burdened with both your children. Is that girl the one you leave behind you?" Mrs. Westerfield smiled sweetly, and answered: "Yes, dear." The Cipher.
"At what time do you expect Miss Westerfield to arrive?" he said to his wife. She looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. "Before the half-hour strikes. Don't be alarmed," she added, with an air of ironical sympathy; "you will have time to make your escape." He advanced to the door, and looked at her. "One thing I beg you will remember," he said. Having given those instructions he went out.
He drew aside, and revealed Kitty, in the corridor, hand in hand with Sydney Westerfield who timidly hesitated at entering the room. "Here she is mamma," cried the child. "I think she's afraid of you; help me to pull her in." Mrs. Linley advanced to receive the new member of her household, with the irresistible grace and kindness which charmed every stranger who approached her.
There could be little doubt to what destination Sydney Westerfield had betaken herself, when she left the lawyer's office. At that moment, perhaps, she and Catherine were together and together alone. Mr. Sarrazin had noticed his friend's silence. "Is it possible you don't agree with me?" he asked. "I don't feel as hopefully as you do, if these two ladies meet."
Kitty's voice was audible on the stairs that led to the picture-gallery, disputing with the maid. Neither her father nor her mother heard her. "Miss Westerfield is innocent of having wronged me, except in thought," Mrs. Linley resumed. "Do you tell me that on your word of honor?" "On my word of honor." So far his wife was satisfied.
As he rose to go, there was a soft knock at the door. A little girl, in a shabby frock, ventured to show herself in the room. "What do you want here?" her mother asked sharply. Syd held out a small thin hand, with a letter in it, which represented her only excuse. Mrs. Westerfield read the letter, and crumpled it up in her pocket. "One of your secrets?" James asked.
Linley were occupied in making their arrangements for the dinner-party. With her unfailing consideration for every one about her, Mrs. Linley did not forget Sydney while she was sending out her cards of invitation. "Our table will be full at dinner," she said to her husband; "Miss Westerfield had better join us in the evening with Kitty." "I suppose so," Linley answered with some hesitation.
"Yes," she said to Randal; "I mean your brother, and your brother's mistress Sydney Westerfield." Mrs. Linley laid the parasol back on the table, and approached them. She never once looked at her mother; her face, white and rigid, was turned toward Randal. To him, and to him only, she spoke. "What does my mother's horrible language mean?" she asked. Mrs.
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