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Updated: June 18, 2025
Miss S. threw out hints in this direction. Why then Cecily? Miss S. was not at a loss. A Cecily party and a Mina party grew up and a third party, who would have none of either, and declared that they had their own ideas, and that time would show. Gossip raged, and old Mr Neeld sat in the middle of the conflagration. How his record of evasion, nay, of downright falsehood, mounted up!
Until I am convinced everything stands as it did. I rely on you for that, Neeld and I rely on you to come to Merrion to-morrow. Not a word to my wife above all not a word to Janie!" He got up, took possession of Neeld's review, and walked off into the house with his business-like quick stride. Neeld sat there, slowly rubbing his hands against one another between his knees.
When injustice springs not from judgment but from temper, it is not worth arguing against. Neeld held his tongue and they sat silent on the seat by the river, looking across to Merrion and hearing the voices of their friends through the open windows of the Long Gallery.
Indeed he could not rid himself of the idea that there was a very inquisitive look in Madame Zabriska's large eyes. Mina risked one more question, put very carelessly. "I think he must have met Lady Tristram there once or twice. Does he say anything about her?" "Not a word," said Neeld, grasping the nettle firmly this time.
On the other side was the strong sympathy which that story in the Journal had created in him since first he read it, and realized its perverse little tragedy; and there was the thought of Lady Tristram dying down at Blent. The long silence was broken by neither of them. Neeld was weighing his question; Mina had made her appeal and waited for an answer.
But he was stirred now; the suddenness of the thing had done it. And in face of his feelings how stood Mr Neeld? He saw nothing admirable in how and where he stood. "Well, we'll see Mina and hear if she's got anything to say. Fancy that little monkey being drawn into a thing like this! Meanwhile we'll say nothing. I don't believe it, and I shall want a lot of convincing.
"It's all been so delightful, and yet so strange; and he told me to be ready either to stay here or to go home to-night! Tell me, tell me, Mr Neeld!" "Why didn't he tell you himself?" "I only saw him alone for an instant after the wedding; and before it he didn't say a word about there being anything to tell. There's a secret. What is it?" He was glad to tell it.
"Justice is the first thing," declared Wilmot Edge. Now he might have been on a court-martial. They knew nothing whatever of the truth or the true position. "We may rely on on Lord Tristram to treat the matter with every delicacy, Edge." "I'm sure of it, Neeld, I'm sure of it." "He has been through what is practically the same experience himself." "A very remarkable case, very remarkable.
"Have a glass of port, Mr Neeld? It'll do you more good than those gooseberries." Neeld laid a ready hand on the decanter, as he asked, "Is er Lady Tristram not coming in to dinner?" "Really I don't know. She didn't mention it." His thoughts seemed elsewhere. "Was I wrong to tell Mason to give me the title?" he asked. "Ought I to wait till I've formally established my claim?"
He was eying Harry now, but he said no more about the morning's transaction till they reached the club. "Perhaps we shall find Neeld here," he remarked, as they went in. They did find Neeld, and also Lord Southend, the latter gentleman in a state of disturbance about his curry. It was not what any man would seriously call a curry; it was no more than a fortuitous concurrence of mutton and rice.
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