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Updated: May 3, 2025
We don't stagnate at least I hope not I have a horror of stagnation. I said so to the Archdeacon the other day, and he said that there was nothing stagnant about Windlow." "No, I am quite sure there is not," said Howard politely. "It's very good of you to say so, Howard," said Mr. Sandys delightedly. "Really quite a compliment!
Just write and say you would like to go." "I think I will," said Howard, "and I have another reason why I should like to go. You know Jack Sandys, your cousin, now my pupil. He is rather a fascinating youth. His father is parson there, isn't he?" "Yes," said Monica; "there are two hamlets, Windlow and Windlow Malzoy, both in the same parish.
However, there was no way out, and on a delicious July morning, with soft sunlight everywhere, and great white clouds floating in a sky of turquoise blue, Howard and Miss Merry started from Windlow. The little lady was full of decorous glee, and her mirth, like a working cauldron, threw all her high-minded tastes to the surface.
"Yes indeed," said Howard, "I think it is awfully good of you to speak about it. You won't expect me," he added, smiling, "to say that I wish it had turned out otherwise; but I do hope you will be happy, with all my heart; and you will know that you will have a real welcome at Windlow if ever you care to come there." The young man shook hands in silence with Howard, and went out with a smile.
And I don't believe in looking BACK, Howard nor very much, I think, in looking forward. I know that I wasted ever so much time and energy as a girl how long ago that seems! in wishing I had done this and that; but it's neither useful nor pleasant. Now we have got things to do. There is plenty to do at Windlow for a little for you and me. We have got to know everybody and understand everybody.
As soon as the term was over, Howard went down to Windlow. He was in a very unhappy frame of mind. He could not capitulate; but the more that he thought, the more that he tried to analyse his feelings, the more complex they became. It really seemed to him at times as if two perfectly distinct people were arguing within him.
He had been drawn by a slender thread of circumstance into paying his visit to Windlow; his friendship with Jack had just toppled over the balance; he had gone; then there had come his talk with his aunt, which had wrought him up into a mood of vague excitement.
It was a tortured kind of delight for Howard to feel the girl beside him; but she showed no wish to talk intimately or emotionally. She asked many questions, and he could see that she drank in eagerly the beauty of the place, understanding its charm in a moment. They went in to see Monica, who was in a mood of dry equanimity, and rallied Howard on the success of his visit to Windlow.
But he would be wise and prudent; he would not be sentimental or priggish or Jesuitical. He would just leave the impression that he was mildly interested in Windlow, but that his heart was in his work. He felt sustained by his delicate consideration, and by his judicious chilliness.
I thought he would be the death of us all one evening at Windlow. He simply couldn't stop, and he had a pathetic look in his eye, as if he was saying, 'Can't anyone assist me to hold my tongue?" Howard laughed and got up. "Well," he said, "I'll take your advice. I don't know anyone like you, Monnie, for making up one's mind. You crystallise things.
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