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“Anything,” said Barney recklessly.
“Only one thing. You are never, under any circumstances or under any
provocation, to cast it up to me that I asked you to marry me.”
CHAPTER XLIV
E_xtract from letter written by Miss Olive Stirling to Mr. Cecil
Bruce:_
“It’s really disgusting that Doss’ crazy adventures should have turned
out like this. It makes one feel that there is no use in behaving
properly.
“I’m _sure_ her mind was unbalanced when she left home. What she said
about a dust-pile showed that. Of course I don’t think there was ever a
thing the matter with her heart. Or perhaps Snaith or Redfern or
whatever his name really is fed Purple Pills to her, back in that
Mistawis hut and cured her. It would make quite a testimonial for the
family ads, wouldn’t it?
“He’s such an insignificent-looking creature. I mentioned this to Doss
but all she said was, ‘I don’t like collar ad men.’
“Well, he’s certainly no collar ad man. Though I must say there is
something rather distinguished about him, now that he has cut his hair
and put on decent clothes. I really think, Cecil, you should exercise
more. It doesn’t do to get too fleshy.
“He also claims, I believe, to be John Foster. We can believe _that_ or
not, as we like, I suppose.
“Old Doc Redfern has given them two millions for a wedding-present.
Evidently the Purple Pills bring in the bacon. They’re going to spend
the fall in Italy and the winter in Egypt and motor through Normandy in
apple-blossom time. _Not_ in that dreadful old Lizzie, though. Redfern
has got a wonderful new car.
“Well, I think I’ll run away, too, and disgrace myself. It seems to
pay.
“Uncle Ben is a scream. Likewise Uncle James. The fuss they all make
over Doss now is absolutely sickening. To hear Aunt Amelia talking of
‘my son-in-law, Bernard Redfern’ and ‘my daughter, Mrs. Bernard
Redfern.’ Mother and Father are as bad as the rest. And they can’t see
that Valancy is just laughing at them all in her sleeve.”
CHAPTER XLV
Valancy and Barney turned under the mainland pines in the cool dusk of
the September night for a farewell look at the Blue Castle. Mistawis
was drowned in sunset lilac light, incredibly delicate and elusive. Nip
and Tuck were cawing lazily in the old pines. Good Luck and Banjo were
mewed and mewing in separate baskets in Barney’s new, dark-green car
_en route_ to Cousin Georgiana’s. Cousin Georgiana was going to take
care of them until Barney and Valancy came back. Aunt Wellington and
Cousin Sarah and Aunt Alberta had also entreated the privilege of
looking after them, but to Cousin Georgiana was it given. Valancy was
in tears.
“Don’t cry, Moonlight. We’ll be back next summer. And now we’re off for
a real honeymoon.”
Valancy smiled through her tears. She was so happy that her happiness
terrified her. But, despite the delights before her—‘the glory that was
Greece and the grandeur that was Rome’—lure of the ageless Nile—glamour
of the Riviera—mosque and palace and minaret—she knew perfectly well
that no spot or place or home in the world could ever possess the
sorcery of her Blue Castle.
THE END
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