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Updated: June 29, 2025
Henry, it appeared, no longer spent week-ends at Ewelme this because of some want of agreement with Lady Douglass; and he was now busy in connection with a sanatorium at Walton-on-Naze, which demanded frequent journeys from Liverpool Street. Gertie, in taking Miss Loriner to get rid of hat and dust-cloak in the adjoining room, felt it good to find herself remembered.
"This," announced the other deliberately, "is the missing key of the billiard-room at Morden Place!" The two girls looked at each other, and Gertie nodded. "I've been blaming her brother all along for that trick." "My dear girl," demanded Miss Loriner, "aren't you fearfully excited and indignant about it?" "Doesn't seem to matter much now. But," smiling, "she is a character, isn't she?
Trew suggested Bulpert should have first cut at the food, the while he and the little missy strolled up and down to enjoy the evening air. "I was bound to come along and see you," he said. "When I got the news I nearly fell off my seat. Should have done, only that I was strapped in. You remember Miss what-was-her-name we met at the Zoo that Sunday afternoon." "Miss Loriner." Mr.
Outside the station, Miss Loriner was talking to a horse that seemed impatient to make its way in the direction of home; she and Clarence took seats at the back of the dogcart with a light rug spread over knees; they made no complaint of overcrowding. "Can you really drive?" inquired Gertie with anxiety. "You never used to speak about it when Mr. Trew was talking."
She caught sight of Lady Douglass and Miss Loriner: Lady Douglass carrying her small dog, and apparently more authoritative than ever in manner; her companion nursing a copy of Clarence's book. Henry and Rutley went to the rear van to see to the luggage, and presently returned; Rutley talked animatedly, Henry's features exhibited surprise. The railway omnibus was found; transfer of luggage began.
Miss Loriner, when Clarence had finished his meal, offered to conduct him to the apartment; it was, it seemed, over the stables at the back of the house, and not easy for a stranger to find; moreover, Miss Loriner felt anxious to see how writing people started their work.
It was not until they descended the steps that the group had an opportunity for forming itself. Miss Loriner, recognizing the girl's perturbation of mind, took her ahead, thus foiling the intentions of Lady Douglass; they could hear her talking of literature to Clarence Mills in a patronizing way. Gertie's cousin said resolutely, "But George Meredith never wrote a poem with that title.
Miss Loriner wanted a small fan, and searching the hand-bag which she had brought, first looked puzzled, and then became enlightened. "I've brought Lady Douglass's bag by mistake," she cried, self-reproachfully. "Here are her initials in the corner 'M. D.; not 'M. L." Miss Loriner gave an ejaculation. "What is it you've found there?"
They walked around the carriage drive and across fields; at the porch, Lady Douglass offered to Gertie the hospitable inquiry in regard to the night's rest that Miss Loriner had made, and went on without waiting for a reply. Gertie found herself wishing the service would continue for ever. It was soothing, beautiful, appropriate.
"Tell me if I babble too much." "You dear little woman!" he cried protestingly. Clarence Mills came down, and Miss Loriner was relieved of the difficult task of keeping her eyes averted.
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