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Updated: June 8, 2025
'Yes, I feel that it is, she replied. 'Mrs Reardon ought to be very grateful to you, Milvain. By-the-by, do you ever see her? 'I have met her only once since his death by chance. 'Of course she will marry again. I wonder who'll be the fortunate man? 'Fortunate, do you think? asked Dora quietly, without looking at him. 'Oh, I spoke rather cynically, I'm afraid, Whelpdale hastened to reply.
Persist in this fatuous obstinacy, and I have done with you! 'So be it! 'That is your final answer? Dora, who was now as angry as he, gave a short affirmative, and Jasper at once left her. But it was very unlikely that things should rest at this pass. The brother and sister were bound by a strong mutual affection, and Whelpdale was not long in effecting a compromise.
He turned and saw Whelpdale. 'What brings you on these premises? he asked, as they shook hands. 'A man I know has just been made sub-editor of Chat, upstairs. He has half promised to let me do a column of answers to correspondents. 'Cosmetics? Fashions? Cookery? 'I'm not so versatile as all that, unfortunately. No, the general information column.
It's really very fine; most remarkable writing, it seems to me. It will be scandalous if he can't get it published; it will, indeed. 'I do hope he may! said Dora, laughing. 'I have heard so much of "Mr Bailey," that it will be a great disappointment if I am never to read it. 'I'm afraid it would give you very little pleasure, Whelpdale replied, hesitatingly. 'The matter is so very gross.
Before going to bed Dora wrote a letter to Mr Whelpdale, not, indeed, accepting his offer forthwith, but conveying to him with much gracefulness an unmistakable encouragement to persevere. This was posted on the morrow, and its writer continued to benefit most remarkably by the sun and breezes and rock-scrambling of Sark.
This was in a measure obligatory, for Whelpdale frequently came to see him, and it would have been difficult to repel a man who was always making known how highly he esteemed the privilege of Milvain's friendship, and whose company on the whole was agreeable enough.
They felt uncomfortable, for it seemed as if Whelpdale might find vent for his distress in tears. 'We had better leave you, suggested Biffen. 'It's very hard it is indeed. 'Look here! Read the letter for yourselves! Do! They declined, and begged him not to insist. 'But I want you to see what kind of girl she is. It isn't a case of farcical deceiving not a bit of it!
Dora said innocently: 'You wished me to tell you when it was half-past nine, Marian. And Marian rose. This was a signal Whelpdale could not disregard. Immediately he made ready for his own departure, and in less than five minutes was gone, his face at the last moment expressing blended delight and pain.
They issued into Clipstone Street, turned northward, crossed Euston Road, and came into Albany Street, where, in a house of decent exterior, Mr Whelpdale had his present abode. A girl who opened the door requested them to walk up to the topmost storey. A cheery voice called to them from within the room at which they knocked.
How his days passed he could not have said. One evening in early autumn, as he stood before the book-stall at the end of Goodge Street, a familiar voice accosted him. It was Whelpdale's. A month or two ago he had stubbornly refused an invitation to dine with Whelpdale and other acquaintances you remember what the occasion was and since then the prosperous young man had not crossed his path.
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