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Updated: June 2, 2025
"It's always very sweet to me to hear you talk of him," Lady Cressage put in. "One knows so few people who feel that way about their fathers!" Celia nodded gravely, as if in benevolent comment upon something that had been left unsaid. The sight of the young artist's note recalled her earlier subject. "Of course there is a certain difference," she went on, carelessly, "this Mr.
"But I'm not," interposed Lady Cressage. "Then I understand you less than ever. Why do you talk about an 'interval'? What was the other word? 'oasis' as if this were a brief halt for refreshments and a breathing-spell, and that presently you must wander forth into the desert again. That suggestion is none of mine. We agreed that we would live together 'pool our issues, as they say in America.
One critic wrote that Cressage displayed even more than his 'customary astounding insight into character.... Another critic wrote that Cressage's observation was, as usual, 'calmly and coldly hostile'. Another referred to the 'typical provincial mayor, immortalized for the diversion of future ages.
There were some things which came uppermost again and again but of them all he dwelt most fixedly upon the recollection of moving about in the greenhouses and conservatories, with that tall, stately, fair Lady Cressage for his guide, and watching her instead of the flowers that she pointed out.
The absence of moonshine, at least during this preliminary season, had been quite taken for granted between them, and he did not complain even to himself. There was even a kind of proud satisfaction for him in the thought that, though he had all but completed the purchase of the noble Pellesley estate for Edith Cressage, he had never yet kissed her.
I'll let you know which place I decide upon. Very likely you can manage to bring her at the same time that some other ladies will be there. I expect Lady Cressage and Miss Madden, you know." Lord Plowden stared at his friend. "Are they back? Have they returned to England?" he asked, confusedly. "Oh, didn't you know?" Thorpe pursued, with an accession of amiability.
It might very well be that she was not thinking about him one way or the other. A depressing consciousness that practically nobody need think about him pervaded his soul. Who cared what he said or did or felt? The City had forgotten his very existence. In the West End, only here and there some person might chance to remember his name as that of some rich bounder who had married Lady Cressage.
The title arrested his attention from some fresh point of view, and he pondered it, as he made his way along the corridor, and knocked at a door. At the sound of a voice he pushed open the door, and went in. Lady Cressage, looking up, noted, with aroused interest, a marked change in his carriage. He stood aggressively erect, his big shoulders squared, and his head held high.
He decided finally that there was probably some social rule about such things which he didn't understand. In the drawing-room of the house in Grafton Street which he had quitted, the two ladies sat with faces averted from each other, in constrained silence. Edith Cressage rose at last, and took a few aimless steps, with her hands at her hair.
I suppose that is what the Government wishes to prevent." "And you're on the side of the Government," said the other, with a twinkle in her brown eyes. "Truly now you hated the whole idea of driving over the Simplon." Lady Cressage lifted her brows in whimsical assent as she nodded. "But do you like this Russian plan any better?" demanded Celia.
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