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Updated: June 2, 2025
Endsleigh Jarrott, and that, after the one glance, he had not turned toward her again; she was sure he knew that she understood him, and that he recognized her power to wait in patience to have the mystery explained. In the drawing-room he was introduced to her. Miss Jarrott led him up and made the presentation. "Miss Strange, I want you to know Mr. Strange. Now isn't that funny?
Endsleigh Jarrott a Rubens Maria de Medici in white satin and pearls raise her lorgnette and call on a tall young man who stood beside her to take a look. There was no time to distinguish anything further before Miss Jarrott glided up, with mincing graciousness, to shake hands. "How do you do! How do you do! So glad you've come.
All the same, I wish Uncle Jarrott would have a little sense." "Suppose I mean, just suppose, dear he felt it his duty to forbid your engagement altogether. What would you do then?" "It wouldn't be very nice of him, I must say. He was as pleased as Punch over it when I was down there. If he's so capricious, I don't see how he can blame me." "Blame you, for what, dear?"
Miss Queenie Jarrott had written to Charles Conquest as one of the oldest friends of the family to inform him, "somewhat confidentially as yet," of her niece's engagement to Mr. Herbert Strange, of Buenos Aires and New York. Uncle Charlie, knowing what this would mean to him, had come to break the news and tell him to "buck up and take it standing."
A white frill round her throat gave the only relief to her plain black dress, but she wore many handsome rings, after the Argentine fashion as well as a brooch and earrings of black pearls. She began by asking her guest if it was true, as Mr. Jarrott had informed her, that he was not one of the Stranges of Virginia. She thought he must be. It would be so odd if he wasn't.
"I came about Evie." Now that she was there it was less easy to begin than she had expected. "Quite so. I knew there was a hitch. I've just had a mysterious note from Queenie Jarrott which I haven't been able to make out. Can't they hit it off?" "It's a good deal more serious than that. Mr. Strange came to see Mr. Wayne and me last night. I may as well tell you as simply as I can.
It seemed a long time before Mr Jarrott spoke the natural harshness of his voice softened by his quiet manner. "You're in charge of this gang?" "Yes, sir." There was an embarrassed pause. As though not knowing what to say next, Mr. Jarrott's gaze travelled down the length of the shed to where the Italians, rubbing their sleepy eyes, were preparing for work again. "You're an American, I believe?"
Evie twitched about the room, making little clicking sounds with her lips, as signs of meditation. "Well, I mean to be true to him a while longer," she said, at last, as if coming to a conclusion. "I'm not going to let Uncle Jarrott think I'm just a puppet to be jerked on a string. The idea! When he was as pleased as Punch about it himself. And Aunt Helen said she'd give me my trousseau.
Thank goodness, there's something to take my mind off all this care and worry and responsiblity, otherwise I think I should pass away. But I shall show Uncle Jarrott that he can't do just as he likes with me, anyhow." Evie and Miss Jarrott went to Newport, and it was the beginning of July before Miriam heard from Ford again.
Jarrott," he said, making himself comfortable, while she moved the tea-table in front of her. "He wrote to me, partly as Stephens and Jarrott's legal adviser, and partly as a friend." He allowed that information time to sink in before continuing. "He tells me Miss Jarrott is on her way home, with Evie." "Yes; Evie herself wrote me that. I got the letter at Cherbourg."
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