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Updated: June 2, 2025
I do, you see, for she's the work of my hand!" And Mrs. Pallant laughed for bitterness. "I've watched her for years, and little by little, for the last two or three, it has come over me. There's not a tender spot in her whole composition.
Enid Ouchterlony had left for Gloucester, Massachusetts, where her aunt, Mrs. Horace Pallant, entertained in an almost royal fashion and was eager to set her match-making arts to work on behalf of her only unmarried niece.
But before I went I asked her why Linda should regard my young man as such a parti; it didn't square after all with her account of the girl's fierce ambitions. By that account these favours to one so graceless were a woeful waste of time. "Oh she has worked it all out; she has regarded the question in every light," said Mrs. Pallant.
'What am I supposed to do with it? asked Woodhouse. 'You give it to the Victoria and Albert Museum. It is fourteenth-century work all right. You can trust me. 'Is it worth it now? said Pallant. 'Not that I'm weakening, but merely as a matter of tactics? 'But this is true, said Ollyett. 'Besides, it is my hobby, I always wanted to be an architect. I'll attend to it myself.
I'll sound him. I'll look into the matter tonight." "Don't, don't; you'll spoil everything!" She spoke as with some finer view. "Remove him quickly that's the only thing." I didn't at all like the idea of removing him quickly; it seemed too summary, too extravagant, even if presented to him on specious grounds; and moreover, as I had told Mrs. Pallant, I really had no wish to change my scene.
I laid my hand on her arm, holding her a while, and we looked at each other through the dusk. "You couldn't do more if he were my son." "Oh if he had been your son he'd have kept out of it! I like him for himself. He's simple and sane and honest he needs affection." "He would have quite the most remarkable of mothers-in-law!" I commented. Mrs. Pallant gave a small dry laugh she wasn't joking.
Was I completely relieved and reassured when I became aware that I simply had Louisa Pallant before me and that the girl was her daughter Linda, whom I had known as a child Linda grown up to charming beauty? The question was delicate and the proof that I was not very sure is perhaps that I forbore to speak to my pair at once. I watched them a while I wondered what they would do.
We disembarked at the steps by the garden-foot of the hotel, and somehow it seemed a perfectly natural part of the lovely situation that I should immediately become conscious of Mrs. Pallant and her daughter seated on the terrace and quietly watching us. They had the air of expectation, which I think we had counted on.
"It's a pity my nephew hasn't a title," I attempted the grimace of suggesting. She seemed to wonder. "I see you think I want that, and that I'm acting a part. God forgive you! Your suspicion's perfectly natural. How can any one TELL," asked Louisa Pallant "with people like us?" Her utterance of these words brought tears to my eyes.
We obeyed Pallant to the extent of slipping into The Bun a wary paragraph about cows lying down and dripping at the mouth, which might be read either as an unkind libel or, in the hands of a capable lawyer, as a piece of faithful nature-study. 'And besides, said Ollyett, 'we allude to "gravid polled Angus." I am advised that no action can lie in respect of virgin Shorthorns.
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