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Updated: June 8, 2025
He tore open the envelope. In delicacy Reardon and Biffen averted their eyes. There was silence for a minute, then a strange ejaculation from Whelpdale caused his friends to look up at him. He had gone pale, and was frowning at the sheet of paper which trembled in his hand. 'No bad news, I hope? Biffen ventured to say. Whelpdale let himself sink into a chair.
No article in the paper is to measure more than two inches in length, and every inch must be broken into at least two paragraphs. 'Superb! 'But you are joking, Mr Whelpdale! exclaimed Dora. 'No, I am perfectly serious. Let me explain my principle.
Opening it, Milvain exclaimed: 'Ha! this is lucky. There's something here that may interest you, Whelpdale. 'Proofs? 'Yes. A paper I have written for The Wayside. He looked at Dora, who smiled. 'How do you like the title? "The Novels of Edwin Reardon!" 'You don't say so! cried the other. 'What a good-hearted fellow you are, Milvain! Now that's really a kind thing to have done. By Jove!
Both of them are obvious dwellers in the valley of the shadow of books. 'Is Miss Yule such a fright then? asked Maud. 'A fright! Not at all. A good example of the modern literary girl. I suppose you have the oddest old-fashioned ideas of such people. No, I rather like the look of her. Simpatica, I should think, as that ass Whelpdale would say.
In the case of which I am thinking it easily might be. And I think it very improbable indeed that I should repent it if anything led me to indulge such an impulse. Whelpdale smiled. 'This is very interesting. I hope it may lead to something. 'I don't think it will. I am far more likely to marry some woman for whom I have no preference, but who can serve me materially.
'Look here, Whelpdale, said Jasper, 'I can't have this; Dora's conceit, please to remember, is, to begin with, only a little less than my own, and you will make her unendurable. Her tale is well enough in its way, but then its way is a very humble one. 'I deny it! cried the other, excitedly.
Mr Whelpdale sat by the fire, smoking a cigar. He was a plain-featured but graceful and refined-looking man of thirty, with wavy chestnut hair and a trimmed beard which became him well. At present he wore a dressing-gown and was without collar. 'Welcome, gents both! he cried facetiously. 'Ages since I saw you, Reardon. I've been reading your new book.
For it was then that she at length decided to change her name for that of Whelpdale. Jasper could not quite reconcile himself to this condescension; in various discourses he pointed out to his sister how much higher she might look if she would only have a little patience. 'Whelpdale will never be a man of any note. A good fellow, I admit, but borne in all senses.
He can behave himself. 'Just as you please, Jasper. 'Ask him to come up, Mrs Thompson, please. Mr Whelpdale presented himself. He entered with much more ceremony than when Milvain was alone; on his visage was a grave respectfulness, his step was light, his whole bearing expressed diffidence and pleasurable anticipation. 'My younger sister, Whelpdale, said Jasper, with subdued amusement.
'Oh, I knew I had something to tell you! Have you heard that Whelpdale is going to be married? Reardon shook his head in a preoccupied way. 'I had a note from him this morning, telling me. He asked me to look him up to-night, and he'd let me know all about it. Let's go together, shall we? 'I don't feel much in the humour for Whelpdale. I'll walk with you, and go on home.
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