'I have been through
torment, master,' he seemed to say. 'A second separation at present is
not possible for me!'
Mrs. Pendyce stood waiting silently, and Mr. Paramor addressed himself
to her.
"You can do more than any of us, Mrs. Pendyce, both with George and with
this man Bellew--and, if I am not mistaken, with his wife."
The Squire broke in:
"Don't think that I'll have any humble pie eaten to that fellow Bellew!"
The look Mr. Paramor gave him at those words, was like that of a doctor
diagnosing a disease. Yet there was nothing in the expression of the
Squire's face with its thin grey whiskers and moustache, its twist to
the left, its swan-like eyes, decided jaw, and sloping brow, different
from what this idea might bring on the face of any country gentleman.
Mrs. Pendyce said eagerly
"Oh, Mr. Paramor, if I could only see George!"
She longed so for a sight of her son that her thoughts carried her no
further.
"See him!" cried the Squire. "You'll go on spoiling him till he's
disgraced us all!"
Mrs. Pendyce turned from her husband to his solicitor. Excitement had
fixed an unwonted colour in her cheeks; her lips twitched as if she
wished to speak.
Mr. Paramor answered for her:
"No, Pendyce; if George is spoilt, the system is to blame."
"System!" said the Squire.
Pages:
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202