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Updated: June 17, 2025
By what influence we cannot say; but removed completely it unquestionably was, and a final determination that Sir Wynston Berkley should become his guest had fixedly taken its place. As Marston walked along the passages which led from this room, he encountered Mrs. Marston and his daughter. "Well," said he, "you have read Wynston's letter?"
Marston good-naturedly recounted to her all she knew of Sir Wynston Berkley, which, in substance, amounted to no more than we have already stated. When she concluded, the young Frenchwoman continued for some time silent, still busy with her flowers. But, suddenly, she heaved a deep sigh, and shook her head. "You seem disquieted, mademoiselle," said Mrs. Marston, in a tone of kindness.
"Well, then, he has no one to blame but himself affronted he shall be; I shall effectually put an end to this humorous excursion. Egad, it is rather hard if a man cannot keep his poverty to himself." Sir Wynston Berkley was a baronet of large fortune a selfish, fashionable man, and an inveterate bachelor.
A few minutes devoted to the mysteries of the toilet, with the aid of an accomplished valet, enabled him to appear, as he conceived, without disadvantage at this domestic reunion. Sir Wynston Berkley was a particularly gentleman-like person.
He had not been five minutes in the parlor, chatting gaily with Mr. and Mrs. Marston and their pretty daughter, when Mademoiselle de Barras entered the room. As she moved towards Mrs. Marston, Sir Wynston rose, and, observing her with evident admiration, said in an undertone, inquiringly, to Marston, who was beside him "And this?" "That is Mademoiselle de Barras, my daughter's governess, and Mrs.
He knew, moreover, that his wealthy cousin was gifted with a great deal of that small cunning which is available for masking the little scheming of frivolous and worldly men; and that Sir Wynston never took trouble of any kind without a sufficient purpose, having its center in his own personal gratification. This visit greatly puzzled Marston; it gave him even a vague sense of uneasiness.
"You never saw him," retorted Marston, sternly. "No, no; you can't have seen him, and you probably never will; but if he does come here again, don't listen to him. He is half-fiend and half-idiot, and no good comes of his mouthing and muttering. Avoid him, I warn you, avoid him. Let me see: how shall I describe him? Let me see. You remember you remember Berkley Sir Wynston Berkley.
As Sir Wynston was leaving the parlor for his own room, Marston accompanied him to the hall, and said "I shan't play tonight, Sir Wynston." "Ah, ha! very particularly engaged?" suggested the baronet, with a faint, mocking smile. "Well, my dear fellow, we must endeavor to make up for it tomorrow eh?"
Marston thought, and, perhaps, not erroneously, that Sir Wynston suspected something of the real state of affairs, and he was, therefore, incensed to perceive, as he thought, in his manner, very evident indications of his being in unusually good spirits. Thus disposed, the party sat down to supper.
The unhappy man has twice repeated his anxious desire, this day, to state some facts connected with the murder of the late Sir Wynston Berkley, which, he says, it is of the utmost moment that you should hear.
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