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Chapter 3 KINGSTON BROOKS HAS A VISITOR

Word Count: 2342    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

established in Medchester, without friends save those he was now making, and absolutely without interest of any sort. He had a small capital, and already the beginnings of a practice. He had

e election, and the sudden illness of Mr. Morrison, who had always acted as agent for the Radical candidates for the borough. Another agent had to be found. Several who would have been suitable were unavailable. An urgent committee meeting was held, and Mr. Bullsom at once cal

ago he had begun to feel exhilarating, had for him decreased now that his share in it lay behind the scenes, and he found himself wholly occupied with the purely routine work of the election. Nor was there any sufficient explanation to be found in the entertainment which he had felt himself bound to accept at Mr. Bullsom's hands. Of the wine, which had been only tolerable, he had drunk, as was his custom, sparingly, and of Mary Scott, who had certainly interested him in a manner which the rest of the family had not, he had after all seen but very little. He found himself thinking with fervor of the desirable

s and horse of which, though quiet enough, caused him a moment's surprise as being superior to the ordinary equipages of the neighborhood. He passed on to the sober-fronted house where he li

with deeply-lined face, tall, and with an expression the coldness of which was only slightly mitigated by a sensitive mouth that seemed at once cynical and humorous. He was of more than ordinary height, and dressed in the plainest dinner garb of the day, but h

oks asked. "My name is Kingston

perturbably. "I called about an hour ago, a

a capacious case. Brooks found himself offering a light and accepti

a whisky-and-so

no," was the

s a shor

siness connected with the electi

y. He knocked the ash from his c

haven't the least idea why I

isitor was so evidently a gentleman and a person of account, that the obvi

cy that before I leave you I shall find myself explaining, or endeavouring to explain,

answered, "enigmat

my explanation will not be a tediou

es

e, the matron of a home in the East End of London, and a lady devote

rd in his chair. These things wer

y I understand that the doctors considered him still to be mentally in a very weak state. They ordered him a sea voyage. He left England on the

Ten ye

father left England. You found a guardian in Mr. Ascough of Li

w these things?

died. It was I who wrote to you

there-in

had built his hut by the side of the great lake. He was the only

years," Brooks exclaimed. "You

isitor repeated in

ff from every one, send no word home, creep away into that

ally shattered. He spent his days alone, looking out across the lake or wandering in the woods. He had no c

. I cannot see what possible reason he had for changing his plans. There was no mystery about his

to return. But why I do not know. One thing is certain. His mental state was not altogether healthy. His desire for solitude was almost a passion. Towards the end, however, his mind wa

had befriended who would have worked their passage out and faced any hardships to be

y to be moved. Yet Brooks fancied that the long white fingers were trembling, and that the strange quiet of his fe

very long time in England, and I have a very evil habit of putting off things concerning which there is no urgency. I called at Ascough's, and learned that you were in practice in Medchester. I am now living for a

ry kind,"

n upheaval of a past which he had never p

n, and also to start you in life," his visitor continued. "Yours is considered to be an o

anked him

platform to-night I gather

gh to be appointed agent to Mr. Henslow owing to the il

behind him, looking at the younger man. And Brooks s

coming. I have always wanted more than anything in the world to meet some one who saw my father after he le

und solitude when I found him. Frankly, I considered from the first that his mind was unhinged. Therein I fancy lies the whole explanation

t. The urgent advice of his physicians alone led him to embark upon that voyage; I see now that it was a mistake. He left before he had sufficiently recovered to be safely trusted a

de came the sound of the pawing of ho

here as Philip Ferringshaw, here I have to add my title, the Marquis of Arranmore. I was a younger son in those days. If there is anything which I have

d he stifled a yawn as he passed along the little passage. Kingston Brooks returned to his

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