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Updated: June 3, 2025
But your desertion of my mother and me was a brutality. What you call your creed of life sounds to me hideous. You and I are far apart, and so far as I am concerned, God grant that we may remain so." For the first time Lord Arranmore smiled. He poured out with steady hand yet another glass of wine, and he nodded towards the door. "I am obliged to you," he said, "for your candour.
Forgive your father anything you've got against him, and start afresh." "Well, I'll think about it," Brooks promised. Brooks returned to London to find the annual exodus already commenced. Lady Caroom and Sybil had left for Homburg. Lord Arranmore was yachting in the Channel. Brooks settled down to work, and found it a little wearisome.
The name of the young lady would be no concern of mine. But in case you should be contemplating anything of the sort, I thought it as well that you should know what the usual family arrangements are." "I am sorry," Brooks said, "but I really don't understand what you mean by family arrangements." "No!" Lord Arranmore remarked, softly.
"Nothing to drink, thanks," Brooks answered. "A cigarette, if you are going to smoke." Lord Arranmore pushed his cigarette-case across the small round table which stood between their easy-chairs. The room was empty. "You will find these tolerable. I promised to be brief, did I not?
I spent last Sunday with them at Chelsom Castle. Awful long way to go, but I'm fond of Sybil. I thought she was a bit cool to me, but, like a fool, I blundered on, and in the end I got a facer." "Very sorry for you," Arranmore yawned. "What made me think about Brooks was that she was awfully decent to me before Enton," Molyneux continued. "I don't mind telling you that I'm hard hit.
Ninth Marquis of Arranmore, owner of great estates, dilettante, sportsman, cynic, latter-day sinner or an apostle touched with fire from Heaven to open men's eyes, gifted for a few brief minutes with the tongue of a saintly Demosthenes. Those who knew him gaped like children and wondered. And all the time his words stung them like drops of burning rain.
Arranmore, that reminds me, what has become of Mr. Brooks?" Lord Arranmore smiled a little bitterly. "He is in London." "I have never seen him, you must remember, since that evening. Is he still unforgiving? "Yes! He refuses to be acknowledged. He is taking the bare income which is his by law it comes from a settlement to the eldest son and he is studying practical philanthropy in the slums."
It resolved itself into a match between Lady Caroom and Lord Arranmore, who were both players far above the average. Sybil and Brooks talked, but for once her attention wandered. She seemed listening to the click of the billiard-balls, and watching the man and the woman between whom all conversation seemed dead. Brooks noticed her absorption, and abandoned his own attempts to interest her.
Mamma and I could supply you with all the material. The real trouble, of course, is that I don't marry." "Fancy glorying in your failure," Lady Caroom said, complacently. "Three seasons, Arranmore, have I had to drag that girl round. I've washed my hands of her now. She must look after herself.
"Lord Arranmore is not exactly the man to be a slave to, or even to respect, the conventional, and your being what you are, naturally makes you a pleasant companion to him and his guests. No, I don't think that it is strange." "You are very flattering," he said, smiling. "Not in the least," she assured him.
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