My wife was just as keen as I was.
She took the greatest fancy to Julia from the very start--and
so far as I could see, Julia liked her all right.
In fact, I thought Julia would want to stay--but somehow
she didn't."
"She always spoke very highly of your wife," Mrs. Dabney
affirmed with judicial fairness. "I think she does
like her very much."
"Well then what did she want to hyke off to live among
those Dutchmen for, when one of the best houses in England
was open to her?" Thorpe demanded.
"You mustn't ask me," her mother responded. Her tone
seemed to carry the suggestion that by silence she could
best protect her daughter's interests.
"I don't believe you know any more about it than I do,"
was his impulsive comment.
"I daresay not," she replied, with indifference.
"Probably she didn't fancy living in so big a house--
although heaven knows her ideas are big enough about
most things."
"Did she say so?" Thorpe asked abruptly.
The widow shook her head with dispassionate candour.
"She didn't say anything to me about it, one way or the other.
I formed my own impressions--that's all. It's a free country.
Everybody can form their impressions."
"I wish you'd tell me what you really think," Thorpe urged her,
mildly persuasive. "You know how fond I am of Julia,
and how little I want to do her an injustice.
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