The Loudwater TragedySpeight, T. W. (Thomas Wilkinson)
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The Loudwater Tragedy
Speight, T. W. (Thomas Wilkinson)
Detective and mystery stories; English fiction -- 19th century; Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction
"Come, come, Kitty, you can't pretend that you are altogether ignorant
of his antecedents. He is a clear-headed, energetic, clever young man,
and, as it seems to me, sure to make his way in the world. He is a
good son----"
"_Cela va sans dire_. It would be more to the purpose if you
were to ascertain the amount of his income and the nature of his
prospects--provided he has any."
"Those were points, my dear, which there was no opportunity of
entering upon in the train. But had he not conceived himself to be in
a position to marry, if not just yet, in the not distant future, I do
not suppose he would have spoken to me as he did."
"Would you not be nearer the mark if you were to say that such
'mercenary considerations,' as I have no doubt you term them to
yourself, never entered your mind?"
The Vicar coughed and proceeded to polish his spectacles with his
handkerchief.
"You seem to forget," resumed Mrs. Sudlow, a little inconsequentially
it might have been thought, "or, rather, you never care to remember,
that Fanny is second cousin once removed to the Earl of Beaumaris. But
there! I have known for years, to my sorrow, that you have not a
morsel of proper pride in your composition."
The Vicar's shoulders went up deprecatingly. "My dear," he said, "if
the noble Earl, your second cousin, had ever done anything for us, or
had interested himself in our fortunes in any way, it might have been
politic to bear the family connection in mind. But, seeing that
neither he nor his daughters, the Lady Mary and the Lady Anne, care a
stiver about us, it may be as well to leave the 'claims of long
descent' out of the discussion."
Again Mrs. Sudlow's lips compressed themselves into a thin straight
line. She felt that it had become necessary for her to shift her basis
of attack. She had reserved one barbed arrow till the last. "After
all, you have contrived to shuffle out of the question I put to you,
which was, Who is Philip Winslade?"
"My dear, you know as well as I do that he is the only son of Mrs.
Winslade, who has been a neighbour of ours for the last dozen years,
and who, in addition, is a lady for whom I have the highest possible
regard."
"Oh, I am quite aware that you always had a sneaking _penchant_ for
Mrs. W. She is what is vulgarly called a 'fine woman,' and I have not
forgotten that your tastes always did run in that direction."
The Vicar held up his hands. "My love, you are forgetting yourself!"
"Not at all. If I may push my question further--Who is Mrs. Winslade?"
"You know precisely as much about her as I do."
"Which is equivalent to saying I know nothing about her."
"Her life for the past twelve years is before you to bear witness for
her."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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