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Updated: June 1, 2025
"No," interrupted Mr. Maddison, "it is because he does not realize the value of time which is considerably more valuable than admiration, I can assure you. Since I discussed the matter with Lord Tulliwuddle's aunt we have had several more buyers I should say, suitors in the market er in the field, Count Bunker.
Once more its calm spirituality, the effortless force which seemed to lurk in every line and feature of the pale wasted countenance, had its effect upon Mr. Thurwell. He wrung the hand which it had cost him a suppressed effort to take, and for the moment his doubts faded away. "God help you, Maddison!" he said fervently. "Shall I tell her anything from you?"
"I am almost coming round to my father's opinion. You know, Mr. Maddison, he very seldom comes to London, and then only when he wants to pay a visit to his gunmaker, or to renew his hunting kit, or something of that sort. London life does not suit him at all." "I think your father a very wise man," he answered. "He seeks his pleasures in a more wholesome manner." She looked thoughtful.
Sir Allan asked quietly. "No, he didn't go as far as that. By the bye, you know every one, Beaumerville. Who is this Bernard Maddison? Of course I know all about his writing and that; but what family is he of? He is certainly a gentleman." Sir Allan threw away his cigarette, and rose. "I think I have heard once, but I don't remember for the moment.
Tempting in every way as this suggestion sounded, his lordship nevertheless appeared to find a little initial difficulty in choosing a topic. "Speak out, sir," said Mr. Maddison in an encouraging tone. "Our standard for noblemen isn't anything remarkably high.
If you'll take me, you shall never be sorry for it." He looked at her again, sorely embarrassed, hating himself, yet inwardly sure of her. Her small frame shook with weeping. And presently she turned from him and said in a fierce voice: "Go and tell all that to Elsie Maddison!" Infinitely relieved, Roger gave a quick, excited laugh. "She'd soon send me about my business!
"I have that pleasure," he said quietly. "Mr. Maddison is a neighbor of yours, is he not? I met him, you know, on a certain very melancholy occasion." "Will you go on playing?" she asked, sinking down on a low settee; "we should like to listen." He sat down again, and with half-closed eyes recommenced the air.
They stood on the doorstep for a moment while the carriage, which had been driven a little way down the avenue to quiet the mettlesome horses, returned, and Mr. Thurwell spoke a few more encouraging words. "Jenkins has packed some things of mine, which may be useful to you, in a portmanteau," he said. "You will find it in the carriage, and also an ulster. Keep up your spirits, Maddison.
D n, I wonder how he got on the scent!" Before the open window of her room, looking out upon the fair wilderness below, and over its high stone walls to the dim distant line of hills vanishing in an ethereal mist, lay Mrs. Martival, and by her side stood Bernard Maddison, looking down into her white suffering face.
She nodded brightly, and Lady Thurwell smiled as the horses started forward, and the carriage drove away. "I wonder who Mr. Maddison really is?" she said, half to herself, just as they reached home. Lady Thurwell shrugged her shoulders. "Do you mean who his family are?" she asked. "My dear, it isn't of the slightest consequence.
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