The Widowed Bride — page 193: what you’re looking at

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

we 184 THE WIDOWED BRIDE cried to think how soon her bright dream was to be rudely broken in upon. Meanwhile the rector had joined Captain Evelyn as he ~ smoked his cigar in the yew trees in the garden. ‘“My dear fellow,” said he, somewhat abruptly, ‘‘do you — know where you are going?” ““Well—yes,” said Ernest, reflectively. ‘‘I went to Cher- wyllyn Point to-day—to-morrow I shall drive over to Cress- lyn. There’s an old church there that the antiquarians tell me is exceedingly well worth seeing.” ““Alone!” “‘Am I the sort of ‘melancholy Jaques’ that prefers soli- tude and his own socicty? Of course not, sir. Miss Perci- val has kindly consented to accompany me.’ ‘““My boy,” said the rector, gravely, ‘‘you are not going to Cresslyn Church, but straight to your own discomfiture and ruin!” ‘T don’t understand you, sir.” “‘Yes you do, Ernest. This sort of thing has got to come to an end atonce. She is sweet and womanly, and gentle as any girl living—but you know what your mother’s ideas upon the subject are, my poor fellow!” The last three words were wrung from him by the expres- sion on Ernest Evelyn’s face. “My mother!” repeated the young man, impatiently. The rector lifted a warning finger, and he added: ‘“My mother is my mother, I know—but she does not own me soul and body. ‘There are some things which a man must decide for himself.” ‘But not without counsel and due deliberation,” said the rector, gravely. ‘‘EHrnest, I know enough of your peculiar circumstances to be convinced that you are at this moment putting yourself into great peril, nor would I willingly be blamed for my share, however unconscious, of the business. You must go away from here at once.’ “So you are going to turn me out of doors, Mr. Eskett?” said Captain Ernest, relighting the cigar which he had allowed to go out in the absorbing interest of the discussion. : ‘“T don’t want to seem inhospitable, Ernest, but what can do?” “You are giving me credit for self-control and resolu- tion.” : -oMy: dear boy,” said the rector ; with a whimsical uplift. |