I know perhaps better than any one else what the house
contains; and I could spend, if not my life, at any rate a term of years,
in making the Tower a palace of art, a centre of design, of training, of
suggestion--a House Beautiful, indeed, for the whole north of England.
And my promised wife says she will help me."
He looked at Lydia. She put her hand in his. The sight of most people in
the room had grown dim.
But Felicia had jumped up.
"I don't want it all! I won't have it all!" she said in a passionate
excitement. "My father hated me. I told him I would never take his money.
Why didn't you tell me--why didn't you warn me?" She turned to Tatham,
her little body shaking, and her face threatening tears.
"Why should Mr. Faversham do such a thing? Don't let him!--don't let him!
And I ought--I ought--to have been told!"
Faversham and Lydia approached her. But suddenly; putting her hands to
her face, she ran to the French window of the library, opened it, and
rushed into the garden.
Tatham and his mother looked at each other aghast.
"Run after her!" said Victoria in his ear. "Take this shawl!" She handed
him a wrap she had brought in upon her arm.
"Yes--it's December," said Boden, smiling, to Lady Tatham; "but
perhaps"--the accent was ironical--"when she comes back the seasons
will have changed!"
The session broke up in excited conversation, of which Faversham was the
centre.
"This is final?" said Undershaw, eying him keenly.
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