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Updated: July 11, 2025
But the turning of Burgo out of the house was not Lady Monk's immediate purpose. She knew that he would hang on there till the season was over. After that he must not be allowed to return again, unless he should have succeeded in a certain enterprise. She had now caught him in order that she might learn whether there was any possible remaining chance of success as to that enterprise.
"I do love Burgo Fitzgerald; I do! I do! I do!" They were not pleasant words for a young husband to hear. Men there are, no doubt, whose nature would make them more miserable under the infliction than it had made Plantagenet Palliser. He was calm, without strong passion, not prone to give to words a stronger significance than they should bear; and he was essentially unsuspicious.
He and Maxwell rode homewards together, having sent assistance to poor Burgo Fitzgerald; and as they went along the road, saying but little to each other, Maxwell, in a very indifferent voice, asked him a question. "What do you want for that horse, Vavasor?" "A hundred and fifty," said Vavasor. "He's mine," said Maxwell.
But Burgo shook him off, speaking to him some word roughly, and then again he steadied the rolls upon their appointed place. The croupier who had paused for a moment now went on quickly with his cards, and in two minutes the fate of Burgo's wealth was decided.
"If that's what you really believe, you'd better give it up. Nothing on earth would justify such a step on your part except a thorough conviction that she is attached to you." Burgo looked at the fireplace, almost savagely, and his aunt looked at him very keenly. "Well," she said, "if there's to be an end of it, let there be an end of it." "I think I'd better hang myself," he said.
They would often talk of him and his prospects till Alice had perhaps inspired his wife with more of interest in him and them than she had before felt. And Alice had managed generally to drive her friend away from those topics which were so dangerous, those allusions to her childlessness, and those hints that Burgo Fitzgerald was still in her thoughts.
Horses always catch the temperament of their riders, and when a man wishes to break his neck, he will generally find a horse willing to assist him in appearance, but able to save him in the performance. Burgo, at any rate, did not break his neck, and appeared at the dinner-table in a better humour than that which he had displayed in the morning. On the day appointed Mr Palliser reached Monkshade.
When he talked of taking me to the house, I whispered to him that I thought Burgo would be there." "Do not call him by his Christian name," said Alice, almost with a shudder. "Why not? why not his Christian name? I did when I told my husband. Or perhaps I said Burgo Fitzgerald." "Well." "And he bade me go. He said it didn't signify, and that I had better learn to bear it. Bear it, indeed!
But his curses had none of the bitterness of those which George Vavasor was always uttering. Through it all there remained about Burgo one honest feeling, one conviction that was true, a feeling that it all served him right, and that he had better, perhaps, go to the devil at once, and give nobody any more trouble.
Burgo went on, and made his way into the house in Grosvenor Square, by some means probably unknown to his aunt, and certainly unknown to his uncle. He emptied his pockets as he got into bed, and counted a roll of notes which he had kept in one of them. There were still a hundred and thirty pounds left. Lady Glencora had promised that she would see him again.
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