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Updated: June 25, 2025


He saw the face, never to be forgotten by him to the last day of his life. He saw Sydney Westerfield. Linley had one instant left, in which he might have drawn, back into the library in time to escape Sydney's notice. He was incapable of the effort of will. Grief and suspense had deprived him of that elastic readiness of mind which springs at once from thought to action. For a moment he hesitated.

Presty had confessed, the cruel falsehood which had checked poor Kitty's natural inquiries raised an insuperable obstacle to a meeting between father and child. If Randal shrank from the prospect which thus presented itself to him, in his relations with his brother, and if his thoughts reverted to Sydney Westerfield, other reasons for apprehension found their way into his mind.

He read it with the closest attention, and tapped the breast-pocket of his coat when he had done. "If I didn't know what I have got here," he remarked, "I should have said: Another person dictated this letter, and the name of the person is Miss Westerfield." "Just my idea!" Mrs. Presty exclaimed. "There can't be a doubt of it."

He had been entirely in the wrong when he threatened to take the child away from her mother by force of law; but had he not been punished when his wife obtained her Divorce, and separated him from his little daughter as well as from herself? Whether his life with Sydney Westerfield had or had not been a happy one, he must decline to say; he would only declare that it had come to an end.

She verified the references nevertheless, and paid a visit to her correspondent on the same day. His personal appearance was not in his favor he was old and dirty, infirm and poor. His mean room was littered with shabby books. None of the ordinary courtesies of life seemed to be known to him; he neither wished Mrs. Westerfield good-morning nor asked her to take a seat.

"Miss Westerfield," she said, "I will take the book from you." Sydney gave back the book without a word; in her position silence was the truest gratitude. Quietly and firmly Catherine removed the blank leaf on which Herbert had written, and laid it before him on the table. "I return your inscription. It means nothing now."

"Introduce me to Miss Westerfield," Mrs. Presty proceeded, as coolly as ever. Mrs. Linley showed some hesitation. What would the governess think of her mother? Perfectly careless of what the governess might think, Mrs. Presty crossed the room and introduced herself. "Miss Westerfield, I am Mrs. Linley's mother. And I am, in one respect, a remarkable person.

"But provocation is not an excuse, judged by the rules of discipline. The prisoner challenged the officer on duty to fight a duel, at the first opportunity, on shore; and, receiving a contemptuous refusal, struck him on the quarter-deck. As a matter of course, Mr. Westerfield was tried by court-martial, and was dismissed the service. Lord Le Basque's patience was not exhausted yet.

One of the faithful companions, who had not shrunk from him yet, had just left the London hotel at which Linley had taken rooms for Sydney Westerfield and himself in the name of Mr. and Mrs. Herbert. This old friend had been shocked by the change for the worse which he had perceived in the fugitive master of Mount Morven.

The voice that answered was, like her own voice, faint with fear. It said: "I want a word with you." Moving slowly forward stopping moving onward again hesitating again the woman at last approached. There was light enough left to reveal her face, now that she was near. It was the face of Sydney Westerfield.

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