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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Your father desired she should live with you?" Delia flushed again. "No. My father did not understand her." "He did not agree with her views?" "Nor with mine. It was horrid but even relations must agree to differ. Why is Lady Tonbridge here? And where is Sir Alfred? Papa had not heard of them for a long time." "They separated last year" said Mrs. France gravely. "But Mr. Winnington will tell you.
The girl, with an astonished face, opened a door for Winnington, into a room filled with people, and then unwillingly led Delia along the passage. Winnington looked round him in bewilderment. He had entered, it seemed, upon a busy hive of women. The room was full, and everybody in it seemed to be working at high pressure.
How vivid was the impression of this latter fact on the other two may be imagined. When Delia had gone upstairs to chat with Weston, Lady Tonbridge looked at Winnington "To what do we owe this crowning mercy? Who dislodged her?" Winnington's glance was thoughtful. "I guess it has been her own doing entirely. But I know nothing." "Hm. Well, if I may advise, dear Mr. Mark, ask no questions.
Will Locke and Dulcie had cast the die, and, on the first brush of the affair, their friends at Redwater took it as ill as possible: Clarissa was hysterical, Sam Winnington was as sulky as a bear. If this treatment were to be regarded as a foreshadowing of what the behaviour of the authorities at Fairfax would prove, then the actors in the little drama might shake in their shoes.
Frost has been doing." "Well, you'll have your guardian to help you," said Mrs. France quietly. Delia flushed, straightened her shoulders, and said nothing. This time Mrs. France was fairly taken by surprise. She knew nothing more of Sir Robert Blanchflower's will than that he had made Mr. Mark Winnington his daughter's guardian, till she reached the age of twenty-five.
Miss Dempsey's face broke into amusement at the notion. "And I don't know that I could keep my temper with a militant. Well now you're going to hear her speak and here we are." Winnington and Captain Andrews left the station together. Latchford owned a rather famous market, and market day brought always a throng of country folk into the little town.
Don't try to make me believe, Miss Delia, that women are going to forgive treachery and wickedness more easily than men!" "Oh, 'treachery! " she murmured, protesting. His look both intimidated and drew her. Winnington came nearer to her, and suddenly he laid his hand on both of hers. Looking up she was conscious of a look that was half raillery, half tenderness. "My dear child!
Under the influence, indeed, of his own responsive temperament, Winnington was rapidly drifting into a state of feeling where his perception of Delia's folly and unreason was almost immediately checked by some enchanting memory of her beauty, or of those rare moments in their brief acquaintance, when the horrid shadow of the "Movement" had been temporarily lifted, and he had seen her, as in his indulgent belief she truly was or was meant to be.
Winnington handed her the grey Persian kitten reposing on a distant chair, and Lady Tonbridge, who always found the process conducive to clear thinking, stroked and combed the creature's beautiful fur, while the man talked, with entire freedom now that they were tete-a-tete. She was his good friend indeed, and she had also been the good friend of Sir Robert Blanchflower.
And now, after the years we've toiled and moiled, to see these mad women wrecking the whole thing!" Winnington assented gravely. "I don't wonder you feel it so. But you still want it the vote as much as ever?" "Yes!" she said, at first with energy; and then on a more wavering note "Yes, but I admit a great many things have been done without it that I thought couldn't have been done.
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