Lady Connie

“So, Connie, you don’t want to go out with me this afternoon?” said Lady Langmoor, bustling into the Eaton Square drawing-room, where Connie sat writing a letter at a writing-ta...

Douglas Falloden rode home rapidly after parting from Connie. Passion, impatience, bitter regret consumed him. He suffered, and could not endure to suffer. That life, which had...

“DEAR OTTO,—I am going to ask you not to raise the subject you spoke of yesterday to me again between us. I am afraid I should find my visits a pain instead of a joy, if you did...

The Master’s sister was a small and withered lady, who had been something of a beauty, and was now the pink of gentle and middle-aged decorum. She was one of those women it is s...

For two of the notes requested the pleasure of Dr. and Mrs. Hooper’s and Lady Constance Bledlow’s company at dinner, and the third, from a very great lady, begged “dear Mrs. Hoo...

This little scene with Sorell, described in the last chapter, was of great importance to Connie’s after history. It had placed her suddenly on a footing of intimacy with a man o...

Douglas Falloden was sitting alone in his father’s library surrounded by paper and documents. He had just concluded a long interview with the family lawyer; and a tray containin...

“My dear Ellen, I beg you will not interfere any more with Connie’s riding. I have given leave, and that really must settle it. She tells me that her father always allowed her t...

“Well, now we’ve done all we can, and all I mean to do,” said Alice Hooper, with a pettish accent of fatigue. “Everything’s perfectly comfortable, and if she doesn’t like it, we...

On the day after the Vice-Chancellor’s party, Falloden, after a somewhat slack morning’s work, lunched in college with Meyrick. After hall, the quadrangle was filled with stroll...

It was in the early morning, a few days after her arrival at Scarfedale Manor, the house of her two maiden aunts, that Connie, while all the Scarfedale household was still aslee...

Falloden had just finished a solitary luncheon in the little dining-room of the Boar’s Hill cottage. There was a garden door in the room, and lighting a cigarette, he passed out...

The day was still young in Lathom Woods. A wood-cutter engaged in cutting coppice on the wood’s eastern skirts, hearing deep muffled sounds from “Tom” clock-tower, borne to him...

Radowitz woke up the following morning, after the effects of the dose of morphia administered by the surgeon who had dressed his hand had worn off, in a state of complete bewild...

The party given at St. Hubert’s on this evening in the Eights week was given in honour of a famous guest—the Lord Chancellor of the day, one of the strongest members of a strong...

Out of sight of the house, at the entrance of the walk leading to the moor, Sir Arthur was conscious again of transitory, but rather sharp pains across the chest.

“Because I always have—and because it’s the proper and reasonable thing to do,” said Constance defiantly. “Your English custom of coming down at half past eight to eat poached e...

Constance Bledlow stepped out of the Bletchley train into the crowded Oxford station. Annette was behind her. As they made their way towards the luggage van, Connie saw a beckon...

Sorell, who had come with the boy from the station, eyed him anxiously. The bright red patches on the boy’s cheeks, and his dry, fevered look, his weakness and his depression, h...

Connie dropped the subject. These conferences in the study, which had gone on all day, had nothing to do with Nora’s work for the Press—that she was certain of. But she only sai...

There Connie found Nora’s latest statement headed “List of Liabilities” Constance sat in the shadow of a plane-tree with Falloden at her feet The tea-party at Mrs. Hooper’s Lady...