"Come Harry--there now--don't be so unreasonable. Am not I
just as impatient as you are? This day fortnight you will be back, and
then--"
"Then there will be some peace, won't there? But mind you write every
day." And so Harry was whisked away, as triumphant a man as ever left
Cheltenham by the London train. On the following morning Hugh Anderson
reached Cheltenham and appeared in Montpellier Place.
"My daughter is at home, certainly," said Mrs. Mountjoy. There was
something in the tone which made the young man at once assure himself
that he had better go back to Brussels. He had even been a favorite with
Mrs. Mountjoy. In his days of love-making poor Mountjoy had been absent,
declared no longer to have a chance of Tretton, and Harry had been--the
very evil one himself. Mrs. Mountjoy had been assured by the Brussels
Mountjoy that, with the view of getting well rid of the evil one, she
had better take poor Anderson to her bosom. She had opened her bosom
accordingly, but with very poor results. And now he had come to look
after what result there might be. Mrs. Mountjoy felt that he had better
go back to Brussels.
"Could I not see her?" asked Anderson.
"Well, yes; you could see her."
"Mrs. Mountjoy, I'll tell you everything, just as though you were my own
mother.
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