He had developed the
gambling passion--or else a mere card mania--but at any rate he played
heavily, for relaxation, with a lot of dubious hangers on.
Meantime Mrs. de Barral, expecting him every day, lived at the Priory,
with a carriage and pair, a governess for the child and many servants.
The village people would see her through the railings wandering under the
trees with her little girl lost in her strange surroundings. Nobody ever
came near her. And there she died as some faithful and delicate animals
die--from neglect, absolutely from neglect, rather unexpectedly and
without any fuss. The village was sorry for her because, though
obviously worried about something, she was good to the poor and was
always ready for a chat with any of the humble folks. Of course they
knew that she wasn't a lady--not what you would call a real lady. And
even her acquaintance with Miss Anthony was only a cottage-door, a
village-street acquaintance. Carleon Anthony was a tremendous aristocrat
(his father had been a "restoring" architect) and his daughter was not
allowed to associate with anyone but the county young ladies.
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