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Updated: June 21, 2025
I won't ask you to go with me to Browndown to-morrow; Oscar is coming to return my visit." Those last words decided me. I said to myself, "I will have it out with Mr. Nugent Dubourg, before I go to my bed to-night!" "Can you spare me for a little while?" I asked. "I must go to the other side of the house. Your father wishes to speak to me." Lucilla started. "About what?" she inquired eagerly.
"I beg your pardon, Madame Pratolungo, I was deep in thought. Please state your business briefly." Saying those words, he waved his hand magnificently over his empty sheets of paper, and added in his deepest bass: "Sermon-day." I told him in the plainest words what I had seen on his child's frock, and what I feared had happened at Browndown. He turned deadly pale.
"You can't see at night without your candle. I could go all over the house, at this moment, without making a false step anywhere." When I left her that night, I sincerely believe "poor Miss Finch" was the happiest woman in England. Mr. Finch smells Money A DOMESTIC alarm deferred for some hours our proposed walk to Browndown. The old nurse, Zillah, was taken ill in the night.
He was expected back on "sermon-day" that is to say on Saturday in the same week. I returned to my room, a little out of temper. In this state my mind works with wonderful freedom. I had another of my inspirations. Mr. Dubourg had taken the liberty of speaking to me that evening. Good. I determined to go alone to Browndown the next morning, and take the liberty of speaking to Mr. Dubourg.
Something in her, at that moment, seemed to keep her apart, even from him. When the doctor proposed taking him back to Browndown, she did not insist, as I had anticipated, on going with them. She took leave of him tenderly but still she let him go.
The one sign of anything unusual was in the plain traces of the passage of wheels over the turf in front of Browndown. The landlord was the first to see them. "The chaise must have stopped at the house, sir," he said, addressing himself to the rector. Reverend Finch was suffering under a second suspension of speech.
The landlord came out; and, hearing what our errand was, instantly consented to join us. "Take your gun," said Mr. Finch. Gootheridge took his gun. We hastened on to the house. "Were Mrs. Gootheridge or your daughter at Browndown today?" I asked. "Yes, ma'am they were both at Browndown. They finished up their work as usual and left the house more than an hour since."
Finch got on his feet, and asserted himself at the full pitch of his tremendous voice. "Silence!" he shouted, with a smack of his open hand on the table at his side. I didn't care. I shouted. I came down, with a smack of my hand, on the opposite side of the table. "One question, sir, before I leave you," I said. "Since your daughter went to Browndown, you have had many hours at your disposal.
"I have not forgotten that I promised to remain at Browndown instead of coming to the rectory. Don't be angry with me: I am under medical orders which forbid me to keep my promise." "I don't understand you," I said just as coolly as ever. "I will explain myself," he rejoined. "You remember that we long since took Grosse into our confidence, on the subject of Oscar's position towards Lucilla?"
My proposed avowal to her of the change in my personal appearance, has now become a matter of far more serious difficulty than I had anticipated when the question was discussed between you and me at Browndown. "Have you ever found out that the strongest antipathy she has, is her purely imaginary antipathy to dark people and to dark shades of color of all kinds?
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