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Updated: June 18, 2025
Was it, after all, possible, conceivable, that she was in love with Emanuel? She sat down again. "I know why you say that, uncle" she looked him in the face, and put her elbows on the table. "Now, just listen to me!" Highly perturbed, he wondered what was coming next. "What's the matter with Emanuel Prockter?" Helen asked; meaning, what were the implied faults of Emanuel Prockter.
She had a brief and exceedingly banal interview with Helen, and another with Andrew. And an interval having elapsed, Andrew was observed to approach Helen and ask her for a polka. Helen punctiliously accepted. And he led her out. The outraged gods of social decorum were appeased, and the reputations of Mrs. Prockter and her parties stood as high as ever. It was well and diplomatically done.
He wanted to have that frank, confidential talk with her about the general imbecility of her adorer, Emanuel Prockter that talk which he had failed to begin on the morning when she had been so sympathetic concerning his difficulties in collecting a large income. Her movements from day to day were mysterious.
Prockter a flattering note, asking him, if he could spare the time, to go up to Hillport and examine Wilbraham Hall with her, and give her his expert advice as to its value, etc. He informed Helen of the plan. "I'll go with you," she said at once. "What's in the wind?" he asked himself. He saw in the suggestion a device for seeing Emanuel.
"Ay, the pub!" "I believe there is an inn at the bend," said Mrs. Prockter; "but I don't think I've ever noticed the sign." "It's the Green Man," said James. "If you'll send some one round there, and the respex of Mr. Ollerenshaw to Mr. Benskin that's the land-lord and will he lend me the concertina as I sold him last Martinmas?" "Oh, Mr. Ollerenshaw!" shrieked Jos. "Can you play for dancing?
Did Helen expect her uncle to make his tea off a slice of bread and butter that weighed about two drachms? When the alleged tea was over James got on his feet, and silently slid into the kitchen. The fact was that Emanuel Prockter and the manikin airs of Emanuel Prockter made him positively sick.
So his thoughts ran. His interest in Helen's heart had become quite a secondary interest, but she recalled him to a sense of his responsibilities as great-stepuncle of a capricious creature like her. "What are you and Mrs. Prockter talking about?" she questioned him in a whisper, holding the candle towards his face and scrutinising it, as seemed to him, inimically.
He put his face close to hers, and each could see that the other's features were white and anxious. "So you've come," said he, glumly. "What do you want?" Helen coldly asked. "I want to speak to you. That's what I want. If you care for Emanuel Prockter, why did you play that trick on him this afternoon?" "What trick?" "You know perfectly well what I mean.
He sat down again, to compose a refusal to the invitation; but before he had written more than a few words it had transformed itself into an acceptance. He was aware of the entire ridiculousness of his going to an evening party at Mrs. "Have you had an invitation from Mrs. Prockter?" Helen asked him at tea. "Yes," said he. "Have you?" "Yes," said she. "Shall you go?" "Ay, lass, I shall go."
The one bright spot was that Helen had no genuine designs on Emanuel Prockter. As a son-in-law, Andrew Dean would be unbearable; but Emanuel Prockter would have been well, impossible. But the gas was not yet in order, and he had only one candle, which was nearly at its latter end. The ladies Helen and Georgiana had retired long since.
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