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Updated: June 15, 2025
She loathed the flat Essex country and the streets of little white rough cast and red-tiled houses on the Ilford side where the clear fields had once lain beyond the tall elm rows. She was haunted by the steep, many-coloured pattern of the hills round Wyck, and the grey gables of the Manor.
The telephone bell rang the next morning before the breakfast hour and Jerry was called to it. I was in my study and the door was open. I couldn't help hearing. Marcia Van Wyck was on the wire. I couldn't hear her voice but Jerry's replies were illuminating. "I couldn't," I heard him say, "I had guests to dinner." Fortunately neither Una nor her mother was down.
Waddington of Wyck and Mrs. Levitt's benefactor. And as he waited in the low, mullion-darkened room he reminded himself that he had come to refuse her request. If, as he suspected, it was the Ballingers' cottage that she wanted.
Viewed from any angle, the conduct of the Van Wyck girl was reprehensible, and admitted of no excuse. She had overshot the mark and had done her target no harm. However warm her friendship with those of her guests who were at the cabin, the comments I had heard convinced me that Jerry and I were not alone in our condemnation.
Jerry was innocent, but he was no fool, and with all his gentleness he wasn't one to be imposed upon. Flynn had understood him. He was polite and very gentle, but Sagorski, the White Hope, knew what he was when aroused. I wondered if Marcia Van Wyck with all her cleverness might miss this intuition. Dinner time found the boy quiet and preoccupied.
"Remember two things: the League is National, and it is a League of Liberty. It would not be one if it were not the other. "You will say, perhaps many of you are saying: 'This League is all very well, but what can I do? Perhaps you will even say: 'What can Wyck do? After all, Wyck is a small place. It isn't the capital of the county." "Well, I can tell you what Wyck can do.
"I hope you realize," he said presently, with a dignity that would have been ridiculous if it hadn't been pathetic, "that Miss Van Wyck is a very good friend of mine." "Is she?" I asked quietly. "Yes I'm very fond of her." "Are you?" still quietly. "Yes." He walked the floor jerkily, made a false start or so and then brought up before me with an air of decision.
But I would remind you that Jerry's mind and character were quite mature. I had schooled them myself and I know. If Jerry had fallen in love with Marcia Van Wyck who proposed to play at her game of "pitch-farthing" with so fine a soul as Jerry's, the thing was serious, serious for both of them.
And by turns they carried him, from the valley of the Windlode to the valley of the Speed, past Hayes Mill, through Lower Speed, Upper Speed, and up the fields to Wyck Manor. Then up the stairs to the schoolroom, pursued by their mother's cries. "Oh Col-Col, my little Col-Col! What have you done to him, Eliot?" Eliot bore it like a lamb.
"Well, we must leave them in that." Jerrold laughed. But he was not in the least amused. iii He went down to Wyck the next day; he couldn't wait till the day after. Not that he had the smallest hope of Anne now. Even if his mother's suspicion were unfounded, she had made it sufficiently clear to him that Anne was necessary to Colin; and, that being so, the chances were that Colin cared for her.
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