Weaker than a Woman — page 204: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

WEAKER THAN A WOMAN. 195 “Will you take any refreshment, Mr. Lonsdale? You have had a long drive.” Another volley of oaths followed. Pale, scared, and trembling, she fled from the room and took refuge in her own. If she had been alone he would have followed her, and then she would have had to save herself as she best could, but Felix was there, and the very thought of his presence comforted her. He staid with the furious man, whose violence soon changed into the extreme of friendli- ness, until he had stupefied himself with drink and was car- ried off helpless to bed, and then Felix started for Lilford. AS he left Garswood, Felix raised his face to the calm evening skies. “Heaven help her,” he said. ‘Poor Violet!” No reference to this little scene passed his lips, but in his mind he felt infinite pity for her. A few days later Sir Owen, feeling ashamed of his recent escapade, insisted upon having a dinner-party. Lady — Rolfe, that veteran diner-out, with her daughter Lavinia, who had married a curate and subsided into “ parish work,” the curate himself, a mild, inoffensive gentleman, who had perhaps deserved a better fate, the Reverend Mr. Clayburn, Darcy and Felix. Lonsdale, Captain Hill, with one or two more, were to be present. The baronet wished to give this little party to remove any bad impression there might be in the minds of people since the ball. He had resolved upon being most amiable, polite, and attentive, to his wife especially. But circumstances were against him. His favorite horse that very morning had been found lame, and the groom had the insolence or the courage to tell him that he had caused it himself by his reckless riding.. He turned to dismiss the man on the spot, and then suddenly remembered that he could not replace him, for he was one of the most valuable servants that he had. He was obliged to rein in his temper, which in itself was enough to drive him almost mad, so little was he accustomed to self-control. Huis favorite mas- tiff, too, was ill, and he was annoyed about that. The veterinary suregon said that the dog had better be shot, and Sir Owen swore roundly at him, to which the surgeon answered by saying that he could please himself, and that for the future he should not attend at Garswood if he were sent for. Sir Owen was very angry. It was incredible that a baronet worth forty thousand a year could not swear as he liked; such a thing was not to be borne. So, when the guests sat down to dinner, Sir Owen was~ (e(oy payice| exe Ko) << €o m