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Updated: June 7, 2025
"She will be very sorry we did not get away altogether," Mabyn answered. "And of course it was Mr. Roscorla who spoiled it. Nobody knew anything about it but himself. He must have run on to the inn and told some one. Wasn't it mean, Wenna? Couldn't he see that he wasn't wanted?" "Are you talking of Mr. Roscorla?" Trelyon said: George Rosewarne was a bit ahead at this moment.
"LONDON, Friday evening. Dear Mabyn: Why, you know she wouldn't take a sapphire ring or any other from me. Yours faithfully, "MY DEAR MR. TRELYON: Pray don't lose any time in writing, but send me at once a sapphire ring for Wenna. You have hit the size once, and you can do it again; but in any case I have marked the size on this bit of thread, and the jeweler will understand. And please, dear Mr.
Now, when Harry Trelyon drove up to the Hall after leaving Wenna Rosewarne in the road he could not tell why he was vexed with her. He imagined somehow that she should not have allowed Mr. Roscorla to come home; and to come home just at this moment, when he, Trelyon, had stolen down for a couple of days to have a shy look at the sweet-heart who was so far out of his reach!
Why can't you ask anybody but clergymen, mother? There are whole lots of people would like to run down from London for a fortnight before getting into the thick of the season: there's the Pomeroy girls as good as offered to come." "But they can't come by themselves," Mrs. Trelyon said with a feeble protest. "Oh yes, they can: they're ugly enough to be safe anywhere.
"Ah, well," she said, with a shrewd smile, "there were two or three who thought George Trelyon that was this young man's grandfather, you know lucky enough, if one might judge by the noise they made. Dear, dear! what a to-do there was when we ran away! Why, don't you know, Mr. Trewhella, that I ran away from a ball with him, and drove to Gretna Green with my ball-dress on, as I'm a living woman?
"Oh, Mr. Trelyon!" said Mabyn. "You keep quiet. That isn't the half of what's going to befall you. I shall put up the horses at the inn, and I shall take you all down to the beach for a scramble to improve your appetite; and at the said inn you shall have luncheon with me, if you're all very good and behave yourselves. Then we shall drive back just when we particularly please.
"Lord and Lady Amersham have already come to the Hall." "Oh, indeed!" "Yes. They said some time ago that there was a good chance of Mr. Trelyon marrying the daughter the tall girl with yellow hair, you remember?" "And the stooping shoulders? Yes. I should think they would be glad to get her married to anybody. She's thirty." "Oh, Wenna!" "Mr. Trelyon told me so," said Wenna sharply.
Master Harry Trelyon was no great critic of music. When Wenna Rosewarne sang that night "She wore a wreath of roses," he fancied he had never listened to anything so pathetic. When she sang "Meet me by moonlight alone," he was delighted with the spirit and half-humorous, half-tender grace of the composition.
Yet the note was not a compromising one. It merely said "DEAR MR. TRELYON: If you have a moment to spare, my mother would be most obliged to you if you would call on her. I hope you will forgive the trouble. "Yours sincerely, WENNA ROSEWARNE." When the young man got that note he was just entering the hotel when the servant arrived he stared with surprise. He told the girl he would call on Mrs.
When at length she did see Harry Trelyon, she was quite near him, and she had just time to glance for a moment at his companion. The next moment he could not tell how it all happened she passed him with a slight bow of recognition, courteous enough, but nothing more. There was no especial look of friendliness in her eyes. He stood there rather bewildered.
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