When Eric betook himself to the garden the next evening he felt rather nervous. He did not know how the Marshalls might receive him and certainly the reports he had heard of them were not encouraging. Even Mrs. Williamson, when he told her where he was going, seemed to look upon him as one bent on bearding a lion in his den. “I hope they won’t be very uncivil to you, sir,” was the best she could say. He expected Una to be in the garden for he had been delayed by a call from one of the trustees; but she was nowhere …
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