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Updated: May 21, 2025
After showing Mr. Wilding out, he called his wife into the library, and communicated to her what he had just heard, and it must have been sorrowful news, for Mrs. Lloyd's face bore unmistakable signs of tears, when presently she went out for Bert, who was hard at work upon his lessons in the dining-room. The moment Bert entered the room he saw that something was the matter.
The masses of the red may and the white may which stood here and there in the border of the yews, might have been the blossom of the wilding apple-trees which often guard the approaches to our woods; the parent hawthorns were as large and of the same lovely tints, but I could recall nothing that was quite American when once we had plunged into the shadow of these great yews, and I could not even find their like in the English literature which is the companion of American nature.
Wilding; indeed, Diana went so far as to offer to accompany her, an offer that Ruth gladly, gratefully accepted. Within an hour Ruth and Diana in spite of all that poor, docile Lady Horton had said to stay them were riding to Taunton, attended by the same groom who had so lately accompanied his mistress to Zoyland Chase.
Wilding would never elect to shatter his all too slender chances by embroiling himself in a quarrel with her brother. And reading him, thus, aright Mr. Wilding put on that mask of patience, luring the boy into greater conviction of the security of his position.
Wilding's face? What followed then? What said Mr. Wilding?" Sir Rowland remembered what Mr. Wilding had said, and bethought him that it were impolitic in him to repeat it. At the same time, not having looked for this cross-questioning, he was all unprepared with any likely answer. He hesitated, until Ruth echoed Diana's question. "Tell us, Sir Rowland," she begged him, "what Mr. Wilding said."
It was two o'clock when Sir Henry Wilding's motor turned its back upon the outskirts of London, and it was a quarter past seven when it whirled up to the stables of Wilding Hall, and the baronet and his gray-headed, bespectacled and gray-spatted companion alighted, having taken five hours and a quarter to make a journey which the trains which run daily between Liverpool Street and Darsham make in four.
"Reluctant to do what?" he questioned amiably, looking Westmacott so straightly between the eyes that the boy shifted uneasily on his high-backed chair. Nevertheless, still full of confidence in the unassailability of his position, the mad youth answered, "To cleanse yourself of what I threw at you." "Fan me, ye winds!" gasped Nick Trenchard, and looked with expectancy at his friend Wilding.
Thirteen years under my late dear mother's care, Mr. Bintrey, and eight of them her confidentially acknowledged son! You know the story, Mr. Bintrey, who but you, sir!" Mr. Wilding sobbed and dried his eyes, without attempt at concealment, during these remarks. Mr. Bintrey enjoyed his comical port, and said, after rolling it in his mouth: "I know the story." "My late dear mother, Mr.
You will remember that its only address was 'to my good friend, W., and that will stand for Westmacott as well as Wilding." Mr. Wilding was fain to laugh at the irony of this surprising turn of things of which she brought him news; for he had neither knowledge nor suspicion of the machinations of his friend Trenchard, to which these events were due.
Wentworth's voice called him, and the captain thrust the door open a foot or so. "Mr. Wilding!" "I am coming," he answered steadily. He kissed her again, and on that kiss of his she sank against him, and he felt her turn all limp. He raised his voice. "Richard!" he shouted wildly. "Richard!"
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