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Updated: June 27, 2025
Then setting it aside, he drew Helmsley's letter from his pocket and read it through again. It ran as follows: "MY DEAR VESEY, I had some rather bad news on the night of Miss Lucy Sorrel's birthday party. A certain speculation in which I had an interest has failed, and I have lost on the whole 'gamble. The matter will not, however, affect my financial position.
All the cottages in the "coombe" were pretty, but to Helmsley's mind Mary Deane's was the prettiest, perched as it was on a height overlooking the whole village and near to the tiny church, which crowned the hill with a little tower rising heavenward.
Now, for goodness' sake, don't excite yourself like this she she'll never forgive me!" and he shook up the cushion at the back of Helmsley's chair and made him lean upon it. "Only it would be such a joy to me such a wonder such a help to know that she really loved me! loved me, David! you understand why, I think I could conquer the world!" Helmsley smiled faintly.
Several sea-gulls were flying inland; two or three soared right over Helmsley's head with a plaintive cry. He turned to watch their graceful flight, and saw another phalanx of clouds coming up behind to meet and cope with those already hurrying in with the wind from the sea. The darkness of the sky was deepening every minute, and he began to feel a little uneasy.
With that, having seen the last of Helmsley's retreating figure, she went indoors, and relieved her feelings by putting Prue through her domestic paces in a fashion that considerably flurried that small damsel and caused her to wonder, "what 'ad come over Miss Tranter suddint, she was that beside 'erself with work and temper!" It was pleasant walking across the moor.
He would sit by Helmsley's chair of a summer afternoon and talk with him as friend to friend it made no difference to him that to all appearances the old man was poor and dependent on Mary Deane's bounty, and that his former life was, to him, the clergyman, a sealed book; he was there to cheer and to comfort, not to inquire, reproach, or condemn.
Mary stirred the fire into a brighter blaze, and drawing Helmsley's armchair close to its warm glow, stood by him till he was comfortably seated then she placed another chair opposite for Reay, and sat down herself on a low oaken settle between the two. "This is the pleasantest time of the day just now," she said "And the best time for talking! I love the gloaming. My father loved it too."
Helmsley's man, sir," he announced. "Wants to see you personally." Sir Francis got up from his chair with alacrity. "All right! Show him in." The boy retired, and presently reappearing, ushered in a staid-looking personage in black who, saluting Sir Francis respectfully, handed him a letter marked "Confidential." "Nice day, Benson," remarked the lawyer cheerfully, as he took the missive.
"For she will be sought after by many a better man than myself," he said "Even rich men, who do not need her millions, are likely to admire her and why should I stand in her way? I, who haven't a penny to call my own! I should be a coward if I kept her to her promise. For she does not know yet she does not see what the possession of Helmsley's millions will mean to her.
Sorrel would be sorry if she knew that," he said. "I think I really think, Helmsley, that Mrs. Sorrel believes you are still in the matrimonial market!" Helmsley's deeply sunken eyes flashed out a sudden searchlight of keen and quick inquiry, then his brows grew dark with a shadow of scorn. "Poor Lucy!" he murmured. "She is very unfortunate in her mother, and equally so in her father.
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