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Updated: June 26, 2025
And from one thing to another, I found myself established about ten o'clock at the table in the dining-tent, with Miss Westonhaugh at one side, worsted work, writing materials and all, just as she had been at the same table a week or so before. At her request I had continued my writing when she came in.
Griggs, it seems. Lupus in fabula. I hear my name pronounced as I enter the door. This is flattering to a man of my modest pretensions to social popularity. You would like me to tell you your fortune? Well, I am not a fortune-teller." "Never mind my fortune. Will Miss Westonhaugh recover?" "No. She will die at sundown." "How do you know, since you say you are no prophet?"
Is that all you wanted?" Miss Westonhaugh, peering down into the depths of the well, laughed gaily. "I told you so! Never try to make Mr. Griggs swallow that kind of thing. Besides, he is a 'cynic' you know." "As far as personal appearance goes, Miss Westonhaugh, I think your friend the Brahmin there stands more chance of being taken for a philosopher of that school.
"Janet Clapsaddle," she replied, waddling hungrily forward and getting unpleasantly near the speaker, for he moved off as she approached, and took his stand in the clear space at the head of the table. "Very well, Mistress Clapsaddle. You were a Westonhaugh, I believe?" "You believe, sneak-faced hypocrite that you are!" she blurted out. "I don't understand your lawyer ways.
Isaacs?" asked Miss Westonhaugh, looking admiringly across at the young man, who seemed rather annoyed. And so the conversation went round and all were merry, and some were sleepy after dinner, and we sat in long chairs under the awning or connât.
I felt my heart bound as if some inner echo responded to that name. "Daughter of whom?" "Hudson Westonhaugh," she gently faltered. "My father is dead died last night. I am his only heir." A grumble of dissatisfaction and a glint of unrelieved hate came from the doubled-up figure, whose malevolence had so revolted me. But the lawyer was not to be shaken. "Very good!
Miss Westonhaugh was speechless with horror at the whole thing, and seemed to cling to her uncle, as if fearing something of the same kind might happen to her at any moment. Isaacs, as usual the last on the line of beating, came up and called out his congratulations. "After saving a life so well, Mr. Ghyrkins, you will not grudge me the poor honour of risking one, will you?"
I had done, and I folded the numbered sheets in an oblong bundle. "I beg your pardon, Miss Westonhaugh; I was just finishing a sentence. I am quite at your service." "Oh no! I see you are too busy." "Not in the least, I assure you. Is it that tangled skein? Let me help you." "Oh thank you. It is so tiresome, and I am not in the least inclined to be industrious." I took the wool and set to work.
It was so ineffably pathetic this lovely creature, just tasting of the cup of life and love and dying so. "Bring him here at once, Griggs, please. I know all about it. It may save her." John Westonhaugh clasped my hand in his again, and pushed me out to speed me on my errand.
"Stuff," said Ghyrkins. "Oh!" said Miss Westonhaugh, looking rather blank. "That would never do," said John. "Preposterous! we could not think of going without you," said Lord Steepleton Kildare loudly; he was beginning to like Isaacs in spite of himself. And so we parted. "I shall not dine to-night, Griggs," said Isaacs, as we paused before his door. "Come in for a moment: you can help me."
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