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Updated: August 6, 2024
We stand or fall by the Bill. But it will be a hard fight." And, in his acute, deliberate way, he began to sum up the forces against him to speculate on the action of this group and that Fontenoy's group first and foremost. Marcella listened, her beautiful hand pensive against her cheek, her eyes on his.
They've been pacing that lime-walk for a good hour. No one ever saw such a spectacle before. Of course something's up!" Betty followed his eyes, and caught the figures of the two men between the trunks as they moved through the light and shadow of the lime-walk Fontenoy's massive head sunk in his shoulders, his hands clasped behind his back; Maxwell's taller and alerter form beside him.
So much Fontenoy had already ascertained. But she had thrown up a recent engagement within the last few days, and before Ancoats's flight all Fontenoy's information had pointed to the likelihood of a coup of some sort. "The call of the heart that drives me from you," wrote this incredible young man, "is something independent of myself. I wring my hands, but I follow where it leads.
But when he had put her safely into a hansom at the corner of the bridge, and smiled good-bye to her, he turned to walk back to the House in much sudden flatness of mood. Her little restless egotisms of mind and manner had chilled him unawares. Had Fontenoy's speech been so fine, after all? Were politics was anything quite worth while?
She walked away from him, her hands clasped behind her, her soft skirt trailing a pale muse of meditation meditation in which for once she did not invite him to share. "Tressady, by all that's wonderful!" said a member of Fontenoy's party to his neighbour. "What's he got to say?" The man addressed bent forward, with his hands on his knees, to look eagerly at the speaker.
Do you mean, for instance, that I oughtn't to get myself married?" His offhand manner covered a good deal of irritation. He made a shrewd guess at the idea in Fontenoy's mind, and meant to show that he would not be dictated to. Fontenoy also laughed, with as little geniality as before. Then he applied himself to a deliberate answer. "This is what I mean.
Yes! if I'd known at Malford what I know now!" And he laughed again, remembering Fontenoy's nocturnal incursion upon him, and its apparent object. Who would have imagined that the preacher of that occasion had ever given one serious thought to woman and woman's arts least of all that he was the creation and slave of a woman!
Letty allowed her thoughts to wander dreamily on, envisaging the London life that was to be: the young member, Lord Fontenoy's special friend and protege the young member's wife making her way among great people, giving charming little parties at Ferth All very well! But what, please, were the facts on his side? She buried her small chin deep in her hands as she tried, frowning, to think it out.
She looked at him with gentle humour a very delicate high-bred figure, in her characteristic black-and-white. Fontenoy's whole aspect changed as he caught the reference to their own relation. The look of premature old age, of harsh fatigue, was for the moment effaced by something young and ardent as he bent towards her. "No I take the rough with the smooth. Lady Maxwell may do her worst.
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