Percival Christopher Wren

“ Irrationally, George Lawrence felt that Lady Brandon would long outlive that notorious evil-liver, her husband. But for Ffolliot, he believed, his unswerving faithful devotion would then get its reward. Not wholly selfishly, he considered that a truer helpmeet, a sturdier prop, a stouter shield and buckler for this lady of many responsibilities, would be the world-worn and experienced George Lawrence, rather than this poor frail recluse of a chaplain. ”

“ Lawrence was aware that Lady Brandon fully believed that the almost fatal nervous breakdown which utterly changed Ffolliot in body and mind, was the direct result of her worldly and loveless marriage with a mean and vicious man. In this belief she had swooped down upon the poor lodgings where Ffolliot lay at death's door, wrecked in body and unhinged of mind, and brought him back with her to Brandon Abbas as soon as he could be moved. ”

“ Later, and too late, she had realised the abysmal gulf that must lie between life with a selfish, heartless, gross roué, and that with such a man as the companion of her youth, with whom she had worked and played and whose cleverness, learning, sweet nature, and noble unselfishness she now realised. ”

“ Burdon led the way.
"How is Lady Brandon?" enquired Lawrence, impelled to unwonted loquacity by his nervousness.
"She enjoys very good health, sir—considering," replied the butler.
"Considering what?" asked Lawrence.
"Everythink, sir," was the non-committal reply.
The visitor smiled to himself. A good servant, this.
"And how is his Reverence?" he continued.
"Queer, sir, very. And gets queerer, poor gentleman," was the answer.
Lawrence expressed regret at this bad news concerning the chaplain, as the Reverend Maurice Ffolliot was always called in that house.
"Is Mr. Michael here?" he asked. ”

“ He had been perversely glad to find that he loved the woman, if possible, more than he had loved the girl; that a callow boy's calf-love for a maiden had changed to a young man's devotion to a glorious woman ”

“ Almost reluctantly, George Lawrence admitted that most of what was good, simple, kind, and happy in that house emanated from this gentle presence. ...
Pacing the little platform of the wayside station, it occurred to George Lawrence to wonder if he might have more to tell the puzzled de Beaujolais had his visit to Brandon Abbas included the privilege, if not the pleasure, of a conversation with the Reverend Maurice Ffolliot. ”

“ I have no one but you, and you are a tower of strength. I am in great trouble."
"You aren't looking too well, George, my dear," she said, as they entered the wood.
"Lot of fever lately," he replied, and added: "I feel as fit as six people now," and pressed the hand that he had seized.
"Give it up and come home, George," said Lady Brandon, and he turned quickly toward her, his eyes opening widely. "And let me find you a wife," she continued.
Lawrence sighed and ignored the suggestion.
"How is Ffolliot?" he asked instead. ”

“ A hundred times, one or the other of these questions had leapt from his brain to the tip of his tongue, since the moment when, at their first interview, he had seen that she wished to make no communication or statement whatever. ”

“ Just nothing at all. The 'Blue Water' is not at Zinderneuf, nor anywhere else in Africa. Where Michael is I do not know. What that paper means, I cannot tell. And thank you so much for wanting to help me, and for asking no questions. And now, good-bye, my dear, dear friend. ..."
"Good-bye, my dearest dear," said George Lawrence, most sorely puzzled, and went out to the door a sadder but not a wiser man.
§ 4. As the car drove away, Lady Brandon stood in deep thought, pinching her lip.
"To think of that now!" she said. ... "'Be sure your sins.' ... The world is a very small place ..." ”