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Updated: June 10, 2025
He was still only a boy the first married year brought his twenty-seventh birthday but his love for Clare had the depth and reserve that belongs to a man. Mrs. Launce, watching them both, was sometimes frightened. "God help them both if anything interferes," she said once to her husband. "I've seen that boy look at Clare with a devotion that hurts.
He insists on following me wherever I go. He lunched at Muswell Hill today. More complaints of my incomprehensible coldness to him. Another scolding from papa. A furious letter from Launce. If I let Richard kiss my hand again in his presence, Launce warns me he will knock him down. Oh, the meanness and the guiltiness of the life I am leading now!
Launce, on Sunday afternoon, from the door of her cottage, watched them both strike across the common towards the sea Peter, "stocky," walking as though no force on earth could upset his self-possession and sturdy balance, Clare with her little body and easy movement meant for this air and sea and springing turf. Mrs.
I shall give the signal for leaving the dining-room earlier than usual. Launce will join us before the evening party begins. The moment he appears, send him in here boldly before your aunt and all of us." "For what?" "For your fan. Leave it there under the sofa-cushion before we go down to dinner. You will sit next to Launce, and you will give him private instructions not to find the fan.
There was a pause of silence. Was he examining the weapon? Before they could ask themselves the question, the report of the exploding charge burst on their ears. It was instantly followed by a heavy fall. They looked at the opposite wall of the room. No sign of a bullet there or anywhere. Launce signed to them not to move yet. They waited, and listened. Nothing stirred on the landing outside.
He turned piteously to Natalie. "I couldn't very well do that," he said, in the tone of a man who feels bound to make an apology, "could I?" Natalie shuddered; Lady Winwood shrugged her shoulders. "In your place a woman wouldn't have hesitated," her ladyship remarked. "But men are so selfish. Well! I suppose there is some other way?" "Yes, there is another way," said Launce.
"Isn't it rather too soon to begin 'forbidding'?" asked Lady Winwood, good-humoredly. "Exactly what I say!" exclaimed Launce. "It seems necessary to remind Mr. Turlington that he is not married to Natalie yet!" Those last words were spoken in a tone which made both the women tremble inwardly for results. Lady Winwood took the fan from Launce with one hand, and took Natalie's arm with the other.
"I allow nobody below, forward of the main cabin, without my leave. The steward has permitted a breach of discipline on board my vessel. The steward will leave my service." "The steward is not to blame." "I am the judge of that. Not you." Launce opened his lips to reply.
Turlington whispered fiercely, close to his ear "Launcelot Linzie!" In perfect good faith Sir Joseph declared that the man could not possibly have been Launce. Turlington's frenzy of jealous suspicion was not to be so easily calmed. He asked significantly for Natalie. She was reported to be walking in the grounds.
Peter, of course, plainly understood the things that dear Mrs. Launce intended. His confidence in her had been, in no way, misplaced she loved a wedding and was the only person in the world who could bring to its making so fine a compound of sentiment and common sense.
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