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Updated: June 16, 2025
The bi-weekly packet from Deadham addressed in Mary Fisher's careful copy-book hand arrived at luncheon time, and contained, among much of apparently lesser interest, a diverting chronicle of Tom Verity's impressions and experiences during the first six weeks of his Indian sojourn. The young man's gaily self-confident humour had survived his transplantation.
For the studious atmosphere of the room reacted upon Henrietta, as did its many silent testimonies to Sir Charles Verity's constant habitation. This was his workshop. She felt acutely conscious of him here, nearer to him in idea and in sentiment than for many years past. The fact that he did still work, sought new fields to conquer, excited both her admiration and her regrets.
All this was immensely interesting, but did not quite content them. Verity's ambition soared farther. Very high up on the wall, above the glorious pillars, and just under the clerestory windows, was a narrow passage called the Nuns' Ambulatory. It had been built in the long-ago ages to provide exercise for the sisters in the adjoining convent, to which a covered way had originally led.
Nor did Darcy Faircloth figure in Deadham's record funeral gathering. Upon the day preceding it, having watched by Charles Verity's corpse during the previous night, he judged it well to take his new command a fine, five-thousand-ton steamer, carrying limited number of passengers as well as cargo, and trading from Tilbury to the far East and to Japan, via the Cape.
This lateral extension of the house, constructed according to his own plans, was, like its designer, somewhat eccentric in character. The three rooms were semicircular, all window on the southern garden front, veritable sun-traps, with a low sloped roofing of grey-green slate to them, set fan-wise. Such was the house at Deadham Hard when Mr. Verity's labours were completed.
You can trust your old friend Amias, can you not?" and though such an idea had never entered her head, Verity's confidence in him was so great that she actually put her hand in his and promised to marry him. Never for one moment did she repent her resolution, and before the wedding day arrived she had learned to love him dearly.
She didn't need to pose; for that forgotten self could be trusted in another acceptation of the phrase never to forget itself. And here Tom Verity's agreeable frivolity, the astute and witty shiftiness of mind and in a degree of practice, for which he so readily found excuses and forgave himself, made place for nobler apprehensions.
Would it be altogether honourable to give away the secret places of Charles Verity's life of any man's life if it came to that even to so honourable and trusted a friend? She felt handicapped by her own ignorance moreover, having neither standards nor precedents for guidance.
Verity's time, none in the country-side could hold a candle to him for looks, as you may say. Turned the females' heads he did. Might have had his pick of the lot, maids and wives alike for 'arf a word. Well, good-bye to you, sir" and, as certain coin changed hands "thank ye, sir, kindly.
But if I take you away, in my fly I mean, that will give you a position, a standing. It will go far to prevent unpleasant gossip!" Miss Verity's soul looked out of her candid eyes with a positive effulgence of charity. "Oh! I can enter so fully into your shrinking from all that. We will treat your going as temporary, merely temporary in speaking of it both here and at Paulton Lacy.
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