“In this manner, without having to mention Anglesea’s name, I kept my brother’s dear friend from coming to Myrtle Grove.
“Before the commencement of every vacation, undaunted by previous refusals, Glennon would write from his college, and ask leave to bring his friend home with him.
“My father would then bring the letter to me, and ask my opinion. I would always tell him—what was the truth—that my soul shrank from visitors.
“And he would write something to the same effect in his reply to Glennon.
“My brother took this very hard, and on his arrival at home would always complain that it was—in schoolboy slang—‘a jolly shame’ he could not have Anglesea to spend the holidays with him as he had always been accustomed to do.
“He said that he did not know what had come over ‘Friday.’ She had been very fond of Anglesea when they were at Brighton together. So fond of him that he—Glennon—had hoped Anglesea might one day be his brother-in-law, as he was now his brother in heart.
“I said nothing in self-defense at all, but left it to my father to explain—what he assumed to be the truth—that I had no especial objection to Anglesea, but that the state of my health unfitted me to entertain company.
“This generally satisfied him, at least for the time being.
“At length, when little more than three years had passed, my father began to grow weary of our long seclusion from the world, and proposed that we should make another tour of the Continent—avoiding as much as possible the crowded resorts of tourists and betaking ourselves to quieter scenes.
“I consented to this, as I did to every plan proposed by my father. I made but one condition. The Easter holidays were approaching, and my brother was expected to come to Myrtle Grove to spend the time with us as usual. I therefore proposed to my father that Glennon should now invite his friend to accompany him to Myrtle Grove, while I myself should go for a week and take lodgings at the dairyman’s cottage in Kent, where my child was at nurse.