It
was through her, I say, that the bride got the sack at last; and when
that was done the old lady seemed to have done her work, and was content
enough when her son portioned her off, and persuaded her to live at the
dower-house at Morden; and indeed she could hardly have staid at
Crompton, with such goings on as there are now--feastings and fightings
and flirtings--"
"Just so," interrupted the young painter; "she got her way, I know. But
with respect to the younger lady, Mrs. Charles Carew, what was _she_
like, and what did people say of her?"
"Well, not much good, I reckon. What could they say of a school-mistress
who marries her pupil?"
"A school-mistress, was she?" said Yorke, in a strange husky voice. "We
never heard that in London."
"Well, she was summut of that sort, Sir, though I don't know exactly
what. Young as he was, Carew was not quite child enough to be at a
dame's school, that's true. But she was not a mere servant-girl, as some
said, any way, for she could play and sing--ay, songs that pleased him
too--and she had book-learning, I've heard, such as would have
astonished you; so that some folks said she was a witch, and had the
devil's help to catch Carew. But a woman don't want magic, bless you, to
come over a lad of seventeen--not she.
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