Lord Lostwithiel talked about boar-hunting the other night, said Alicia. "It must be capital fun." His name recurred in this way, whatever the conversation might be, with more certainty than Zero on the wheel at roulette. Did you have this in view when you invited me to dine with you? he asked. Mrs. Baynham was at heart a matchmaker, like most motherly women whom fate has left childless. She was very fond of Allegra, who was so much more companionable than Isola, so much more responsive to kindness and affection. As she sat on deck in the westering sunlight, somewhat comatose after a copious luncheon, Mrs. Baynham's[Pg 162] idea of helping Allegra took the form of a dinner-party which she had long been meditating, her modest return for numerous dinners which she had eaten at Glenaveril and at the Angler's Nest. She considered that three or four times a year it behoved her to make a serious effort in the way of hospitality鈥攁 substantial and elaborate dinner, in which no good things in season should be spared, and which should be served with all due ceremony. The time was at hand when such a dinner would in a manner fall due; and she determined to hasten the date with a view to Allegra's interests. I don't object to her, she said; "but to anyone. Give me any room, however small, so that I occupy it alone." But do you know the danger? asked the poor mother. "Do you know that her disease is contagious, and that you run the risk of taking it?" 色女孩影院-射女孩影院-射色女孩电影网 He was in truth her own son. Like her impressionable, flighty, sometimes strange in his demeanour and ways. His whole life was indeed an evidence of these inherited traits. Another less sensitive nature would have given in sooner; but he so bitterly resented his mother鈥檚 harshness, that he would never bring himself to hold out his hand to her first. Then in his loneliness and isolation after his wife鈥檚 death, of which he had been informed, he broke altogether with the world, and flew to the wilds, from which, as we have seen, he was brought back with extreme difficulty at the eleventh hour. It was thus that it came about. I was sitting one morning at work upon the novel at the end of the long drawing-room of the Athenaeum Club 鈥?as was then my wont when I had slept the previous night in London. As I was there, two clergymen, each with a magazine in his hand, seated themselves, one on one side of the fire and one on the other, close to me. They soon began to abuse what they were reading, and each was reading some part of some novel of mine. The gravamen of their complaint lay in the fact that I reintroduced the same characters so often! 鈥淗ere,鈥?said one, 鈥渋s that archdeacon whom we have had in every novel he has ever written.鈥?鈥淎nd here,鈥?said the other, 鈥渋s the old duke whom he has talked about till everybody is tired of him. If I could not invent new characters, I would not write novels at all.鈥?Then one of them fell foul of Mrs. Proudie. It was impossible for me not to hear their words, and almost impossible to hear them and be quiet. I got up, and standing between them, I acknowledged myself to be the culprit. 鈥淎s to Mrs. Proudie,鈥?I said, 鈥淚 will go home and kill her before the week is over.鈥?And so I did. The two gentlemen were utterly confounded, and one of them begged me to forget his frivolous observations. And suddenly, emerging from the ruins, we came on a Moslem street with high walls, windowless, and waving plumes of banyan and palm trees rising above the houses. that before.