“Sholto was quite out of temper, unusual for him, but his mother, Lady Rutherford, was tiresome enough to try the patience of a man with twice as calm a temperament as his. The truth of it was that Sholto and his mother didn’t get on, and had been at outs ever since he was a small boy. There was affection there, but such a vastly different outlook that they puzzled one another extremely. Sholto sometimes wondered why his father had ever married his mother, for there again, there seemed littl...e similarity in their characters. Of course, his mother had been a beautiful woman; the portrait of her painted by Romney when she was at the height of her looks showed that well enough. And his father had been an easy-going man, not much irritated by the little things of life—but had his mother’s growing strangeness been such a little thing? Of course his father had the option of taking up his residence separately from his wife, which was what he had done, dividing his year between London, when the House was sitting, and Yorkshire, when it wasn’t, while she lived the year round in Chauntry, the Hertfordshire house that had been in the family since the time of Queen Bess; a sprawling, inconvenient place with, Lord Rutherford had been heard to remark, more chimneys than bedchambers.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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