She had a high, fresh colour, a beautiful complexion and her
hands had the delicacy of fragile egg-shell china. She was cheerful and
friendly, but was, nevertheless, a sad woman; her eyes were dark and her
voice was a little forced as though she had accustomed herself to be in
good spirits. The love between herself and her husband was very pleasant
to see.
Like all simple people, they immediately trusted Seymour with their
confidence. During luncheon they told him many things, of Rasselas,
where Mr. Trenchard had been a curate, at their joy at getting the
Clinton living, and of their happiness at being there, of the kindness
of the people, of the beauty of the country, of their neighbours, of
their relations, the George Trenchards, at Garth of Glebeshire
generally, and what it meant to be a Trenchard.
"There've been Trenchards in Glebeshire," said the Vicar, greatly
excited, "since the beginning of time. If Adam and Eve were here, and
Glebeshire was the Garden of Eden, as I daresay it was, why, then Adam
was a Trenchard."
Afterwards when they were smoking in the confused study, Seymour learnt
why Mrs.
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