Miss Willoughby

“ Sir Willoughby mildly shrugged, and indicated a spreading out of the arms.
"But do, do talk to me as you talk to the world, Willoughby; give me some relief!"
"My own Clara, we are one. You should know me at my worst, we will say, if you like, as well as at my best."
"Should I speak too?"
"What could you have to confess?"
She hung silent; the wave of an insane resolution swelled in her bosom and subsided before she said, "Cowardice, incapacity to speak."
"Women!" said he.
We do not expect so much of women; the heroic virtues as little as the vices. ”

“ You have not a word?"
"Against myself, not against him."
"And I, when you speak so generously, am to yield you? give you up?" cried Willoughby. "Ah! my love, my Clara, impose what you will on me; not that. It is too much for man. It is, I swear it, beyond my strength."
"Pursue, continue the strain; 'tis in the right key," said Dr. Middleton, departing.
Willoughby wheeled and waylaid him with a bound.
"Plead for me, sir; you are all-powerful. Let her be mine, she shall be happy, or I will perish for it. I will call it on my head.—Impossible! I cannot lose her. Lose you, my love? ”

“ The honour of the school was in question, and he had no right to palter with that.
Yet how could he deal thus with young Wyndham?—his friend’s brother, the fellow he cared for most in Willoughby, over whose struggles he had watched so anxiously, and for whom, now, better resolves and honest ambitions were opening up so cheery a prospect. How could he do it?
Was there no chance that after all he might be mistaken? Alas! that cruel knife and the memory of that evening crushed out the hope. What could he do? To do nothing would be simply adding his own crime to that of another. ”

“ Mrs. Willoughby was moving restlessly about the drawing-room as he was shown in. She turned impulsively towards him, holding out both hands. 'I so hoped you would come,' she said. 'Well? You have seen him?'
'Yes.'
'What does he mean to do?' she asked anxiously, taking from a chair a copy of the Meteor.
'Nothing,' replied Fielding. 'He resigns his seat; he gives up his directorship; he is leaving England.'
Mrs. Willoughby's first look was of sheer incredulity. 'It's impossible!' she exclaimed.
'I have just returned from his chambers. He has started from Charing
Cross already.'
Mrs. ”

“ Then, holding the candle at such an angle that the grease ran over on to the carpet, she gave Willoughby another vehement kiss and trailed out of the room with an ineffectual attempt to close the door behind her.
Willoughby got up to shut it himself, and wondered why it was that Esther never did any one mortal thing efficiently or well. Good God! how irritable he felt! It was impossible to write. He must find an outlet for his impatience, rend or mend something. ”

“ How could Willoughby behave like so complete a donkey! De Craye knew him to be in his interior stiff, strange, exacting: women had talked of him; he had been too much for one woman—the dashing Constantia: he had worn one woman, sacrificing far more for him than Constantia, to death. Still, with such a prize as Clara Middleton, Willoughby's behaviour was past calculating in its contemptible absurdity. And during courtship! And courtship of that girl! It was the way of a man ten years after marriage. ”

“ On the pavement, his hand outstretched to open the car door, was he of the rasping voice.
“This is the owner,” said Willoughby, and he laughed quietly to himself. He always giggles in a crisis. I could have kicked him. But at the moment I was hurriedly debating whether I could possibly escape by the door on the far side without being seen. “A small thin man might have done it,” I thought. But, alas! I am neither small nor thin.
Then the door of the car opened and Willoughby stepped forth into the limelight, as it were. ”

“ Why is the whole credit of Willoughby to be sacrificed for the sake of your precious schoolhouse?” (“Question!” “Order!” drowned by renewed cheers.) “Why, just because he’s a schoolhouse fellow, is a muff to be stuck over us? and just because he’s a Parrett’s fellow, is a splendid fellow like Mr Bloomfield to be snubbed in the face of the whole school? (Loud cheers.) It’s time Willoughby found out that Parrett is the cock house of the school.” (“Oh! oh!” from the Welchers.) “It’s got the best men in it. (Parrett cheers.) It’s head of the river.” (“Oh no, not yet,” from Fairbairn.) ”

“ Willoughby, crisply, “since luncheon.”
“What did you say his name was?” asked Miss Willoughby, whose patent disgust made her look more vinegary than ever.
“She calls him Dick,” said aunt Susan, disdainfully. “His last name is Thomas. A flighty idiot, who talks with a lisp.”
“Where’s the bishop?” demanded the guest, suddenly.
“He’s packing,” answered her sister-in-law, with an air of repressed anger. “Jane took him out in a motor car, some man’s motor car that she came down in, and he came back looking much upset, and said he had to pack and return to town immediately. ”

“ When I want a white woman, I get her. Remember the pigeon. You'll want me. The pigeon, loose, comes back. I shall understand!" He laughed, as if sharing with her the humor of some vile joke.
Ellen shrank back, her face flushing with outraged helplessness and shame. She wrenched her hand free.
"All aboard! All aboard for Kon Klayu!" The cheery voice of her husband rang out. She turned from the White Chief and ran.
The natives came forward in a crowd. Jean free-stepping, wind-ruffled, met her halfway, and seizing her hand, the two hurried down to the whale-boat. ”

“ He hated the having to say it.
"There!" exclaimed Sir Willoughby, and bent, extending an arm to her. "You have not suffered from the truth, my Clara!"
Her answer was: "I was thinking how he might suffer if he were taught to tell the reverse."
"Oh! for a fair lady!"
"That is the worst of teaching, Willoughby."
"We'll leave it to the fellow's instinct; he has our blood in him. I could convince you, though, if I might cite circumstances. Yes! But yes! And yes again! The entire truth cannot invariably be told. ”

“ Willoughby, he, whom only half an hour ago she had abhorred as the most worthless of men, Willoughby, in spite of all his faults, excited a degree of commiseration for the sufferings produced by them, which made her think of him as now separated for ever from her family, with a tenderness, a regret, rather in proportion, as she soon acknowledged within herself—to his wishes than to his merits. ”

“ Mrs. Willoughby, far from accepting life as she found it, expected everything to bend to her will. Circumstances, in the shape of yielding parents, an indulgent husband, a devoted and easy brother, a submissive niece, ample means, and hosts of admiring friends, had fostered to excess a naturally wilful tendency. At the age of seventy-eight, Mrs. Willoughby could brook no contradiction. Yet she knew how to make herself ineffably charming.
Sybella was always "the child" to Mrs. Willoughby. Nothing had ever been left in her hands. ”

“ Willoughby was a young man of good abilities, quick imagination, lively spirits, and open, affectionate manners. He was exactly formed to engage Marianne’s heart, for with all this, he joined not only a captivating person, but a natural ardour of mind which was now roused and increased by the example of her own, and which recommended him to her affection beyond every thing else.
His society became gradually her most exquisite enjoyment. ”

“ Gentlemen, I am not the captain of Willoughby! I never was; and I had no more right to be than any fag present. (Loud cheers from Parson, Telson, Cusack, and others.) The only thing I can do now, gentlemen, to show how ashamed I am, is to resign. And I do resign. For goodness’ sake, gentlemen, let’s be done with the folly that’s been working the very mischief in Willoughby all this term. I know I’ve been as bad as any one, so I’ve no right to abuse any one. But we’ve time to pull ourselves right yet. It wants three clear weeks to the holidays. (Groans from Bosher.) ”

“ Foot by foot the two Willoughby boys pull up and lessen the hateful distance which divides them from the leader. He of course sees his danger, and answers spurt for spurt. For a few yards he neither gains nor loses, then, joyful sight, he loses!
“Look at them now!” cries Telson, as they approach—“look at them both. They’re both going to win! Ah, well run, Willoughby—splendidly run; you’re going like mad—keep it up! Huzzah! level. Keep it up! Wyndham’s ahead; so’s Bloomfield. Both ahead! Well run both. Keep it up now. Hurrah!”
Amid such shouts the race ends. ”

“ Willoughby. Her veil was down, and he seemed trying to read her face behind it. As he passed he threw a quick, vivid glance at Girasole. It was not a pleasant glance by any means, and was full of quick, fierce, and insolent scrutiny—a "Who-the-devil-are-you?" glance. It was for but an instant, however, and then he glanced at Mrs. Willoughby again, and then he had passed.
The ladies soon reached their home, and at once retired to Mrs. Willoughby's room. There Minnie flung herself upon the sofa, and Mrs. Willoughby sat down, with a perplexed face.
"What in the world are we to do?" said she. ”

“ Here was he quite a young man, just twenty-six years of age, married to Esther, and bound to live with her so long as life should last—twenty, forty, perhaps fifty years more. Every day of those years to be spent in her society; he and she face to face, soul to soul; they two alone amid all the whirling, busy, indifferent world. So near together in semblance, in truth so far apart as regards all that makes life dear.
Willoughby groaned. From the woman he did not love, whom he had never loved, he might not again go free ”

“ I have never met Miss Willoughby, but her aunt, Mrs. Hugh Brewer, with whom she is living at Lancaster Gate, is well-known to me. She is an immensely wealthy woman, who devotes her life to public works, and moves in the most exclusive philanthropic circles. The young lady was terribly distressed at the similarity of details in the description of the wanted man and that of her betrothed, particularly the scar on the cheek. Although she could not believe they referred to Mr. Penreath, she deemed it advisable to communicate with the Penreath family solicitor, Mr. Oakham, of Oakham and Pendules. ”

“ He forgot that he had prepared her in self-defence.
"From whom did you have that?" he asked.
"Her father. And the lady aunts declare it was the cousin she refused!" Willoughby's brain turned over. He righted it for action, and crossed the room to the ladies Eleanor and Isabel. His ears tingled. He and his whole story discussed in public! Himself unroofed! And the marvel that he of all men should be in such a tangle, naked and blown on, condemned to use his cunningest arts to unwind and cover himself, struck him as though the lord of his kind were running the gauntlet of a legion of imps. ”

“ Willoughby stared. “As it is, my mistress’ll light into me for being so long. You see,” she continued, smiling, “we’re fellow bondsmen.” She put out a little hand. “And now good-bye. I think she likes this part, and, if I can persuade her to stay at Holy Brush, I’ll call at your lodge one evening and ask for some tea. You’re a Bagot, of course.”
“I was,” corrected Willoughby. “But that—that’s over, like the rest. I’m known as Worcester now.”
“And I,” said the girl quickly, “am known as Spring. No ‘Miss,’ or anything. Just Spring.” ”

“ He was returning from the Court to his inn, when he saw before him a slight female figure in a riding-dress; it was Alice.
“Oh, uncle Willoughby!” she exclaimed, taking his hand; “do not blame me; while there is life there is hope. I cannot let Stephen perish without endeavouring to save him; I should never forgive myself.”
“I cannot blame you, Alice,” said Mr Willoughby. “How are you going to proceed? What means have you at your disposal?”
“I know that I can promise any sum that Mr Battiscombe has it in his power to pay, and I propose seeing the Judge himself,” said Alice. ”

“ Sir Willoughby replied: "I take her for the highest prize this world affords."
"I have beaten some small stock of Latin into her head, and a note of Greek. She contains a savour of the classics. I hoped once . . . But she is a girl. The nymph of the woods is in her. Still she will bring you her flower-cup of Hippocrene. She has that aristocracy—the noblest. She is fair; a Beauty, some have said, who judge not by lines. Fair to me, Willoughby! She is my sky. ”

“ You must think wretchedly indeed of Willoughby, if, after all that has openly passed between them, you can doubt the nature of the terms on which they are together. Has he been acting a part in his behaviour to your sister all this time? Do you suppose him really indifferent to her?"
"No, I cannot think that. He must and does love her I am sure."
"But with a strange kind of tenderness, if he can leave her with such indifference, such carelessness of the future, as you attribute to him." ”

“ From the pole on the Lookout the home-made flag hung in pathetic bleached tatters, like lifeless grey hair down the back of an old woman. Beneath it, on driftwood left over from the signal fires, sat the watchers. A faint breath from the dead ashes mingled with the freshness of the evening air and added an indefinable touch of loneliness. Little Loll, tired out from his long, vain watching, curled up against Ellen's knee and went to sleep. Shags, dark and witch-like against the glowing sky, flew in long, low lines toward the cliffs. There was no sound except the eternal murmur of the surf. ”