Thus, the day the visitors left, Mr. Hanbury-Green among them, the
invalid was experiencing a sense of exasperating neglect. He felt
extremely miserable. Life, and all he held good in it, seemed to be over
for him, and his financial position was absolutely desperate--quite
beyond any question of marriage it threatened to swamp his actual
career. He felt impotent and beaten, lying there like a log unable to
move.
Mrs. Cricklander sent him another little note in the afternoon. Arabella
had reported that the patient was restless, and this might mean one of
two things--either that he was becoming impatient to see her, or that he
was growing restive and bored with bed. In either case it was the moment
to strike--and to strike quickly.
"The doctors have said you may have a taste of champagne to-night," she
wrote, which was quite untrue, but a small fib like this could not count
when such large issues were at stake. "And so I propose, if you will let
me and will have me for your guest, to come and dine with you to
celebrate the event. Say if I may. Cecilia.
Pages:
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295