Lawrence told me that, long ago," said Freda. "But
that he should have done such a thing as that! It is horrible!
Poor Derrick, how sorry I am for him. I hope we shall see something
of them at Bath. Do you know how the Major is?"
"I had a letter about him from Derrick only this evening," I
replied; "if you care to see it, I will show it you later on."
And by-and-by, in the drawing-room, I put Derrick's letter into her
hands, and explained to her how for a few months he had given up his
life at Bath, in despair, but now had returned.
"I don't think Lawrence can understand the state of things," she
said wistfully. "And yet he has been down there."
I made no reply, and Freda, with a sigh, turned away.
A month later I went down to Bath and found, as my friend foretold,
everything going on in the old groove, except that Derrick himself
had an odd, strained look about him, as if he were fighting a foe
beyond his strength. Freda's arrival at Bath had been very hard on
him, it was almost more than he could endure. Sir Richard, blind as
a bat, of course, to anything below the surface, made a point of
seeing something of Lawrence's brother.
Pages:
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124