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Updated: June 26, 2025
He looked cheerful and eager as he came in, and, Braybrooke thought, very young and handsome. He had got away from the F. O. that afternoon, he said, and had been down at Beaconsfield playing golf. Apparently his game had been unusually good and that fact had put him into spirits. "There's nothing like being in form with one's drive for bucking one up!" he acknowledged.
When Braybrooke mentioned Seymour Portman as a suitable husband for Lady Sellingworth something strong, almost violent, had risen up in Craven to protest. What was that? And why was he suddenly so angry? He was surely not going to make a fool of himself. He felt almost youthfully alarmed and also rather excited. An odd sense of romance suddenly floated about him.
Of that Braybrooke was convinced. But his perplexity and doubt increased to something like agitation a few days later when he met a well-born woman of his acquaintance, who had "gone in for" painting and living her own life, and had become a bit of a Bohemian.
"Girls of her age usually are, I fancy." "If she marries the right man he won't mind her unconventionality. He may even enjoy it." It occurred to Braybrooke that Adela Sellingworth was supposed to have done a great many unconventional things at one time. Nevertheless he could not help saying: "I think most husbands prefer their wives to keep within bounds."
She leaned forward, with her small, plump, and conspicuously freckled hands grasping the arms of her chair. "You don't think, Mr. Braybrooke, that Beryl is not here for the Wallace Collection? You don't think that she is in love with someone in London?" Francis Braybrooke was decidedly taken aback by this abrupt emotional outburst. He had not meant to provoke it.
Indeed, Craven was indebted to his kind old friend for various introductions which had led to pleasant times, and for these he was quite grateful. Braybrooke was much older than most people, though he seldom looked it, and decades older than Craven, and he had a genial way of taking those younger than himself in charge, always with a view to their social advancement.
"I suppose she let you know she was going?" he hazarded. "Oh, no. I happened to call and the footman gave me the news." "I hope she isn't ill," said Braybrooke with sudden gravity. "Ill? Why should you think ?" "There are women who hate it to be known when they are ill. Catherine Bewdley went away without a word and was operated on at Lausanne, and not one of us knew of it till it was all over.
"Oh!" said Craven, with apparent indifference. "Have you seen her?" Braybrooke replied that he had seen her, and that she was looking, in his opinion, remarkably well, even somewhat younger than usual. "She seems to have had an excellent time on the Riviera and in Switzerland." "In Switzerland!" said Craven, thinking of Braybrooke's remarks about Catherine Bewdley and Lausanne.
"Thank you so much," said Sylla, in her most dulcet tones. "And now, Captain Braybrooke, I want you to do me a great favour. It's of no use denying it, but I am an arrant gambler at heart; I must and will have a gamble on this. Will you please put five pounds for me on Captain Bloxam?" and as she spoke Sylla saw with infinite satisfaction that she had Lady Mary for an auditor.
"That was very charming and solicitous of you," said Miss Van Tuyn with a smile. "But I don't know that they do!" "Do what?" said Braybrooke, almost losing his head, as he saw the vision in the distance, now cloaked and gloved, rustling in an evident preparation for something, which might be departure or might on the other hand be approach.
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