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"You did tell me about her," said Quin to Cass, "one night when we were up in the Cantigny offensive. I remember the place exactly. Something about an orphan, and a lawsuit, and a little girl that was going to be an actress." "That's the dope," said Cass. "Only she's not a kid any more. She grew up while I was in France. She's a great girl, Nell is, when you get her away from that Bartlett mess!"
"You can make yourself as disagreeable as you like to me, but mind you are on your good behavior at dinner tonight, for the Misses Pelham will be here." The five-o'clock at Mrs. Bartlett Glow's was probably an event to nobody in Newport except Mrs. Benson.
I am going to tell you something which you may think strange. Do you not believe that spirits sometimes come back to the world to fulfill some work that lay near their hearts? What if I were to tell you that I have sometimes thought that her spirit lives in me that Edith Bartlett, not Edith Leete, is my real name.
Senora Windham's hand groped for her husband's. There were tears in her eyes, but he bent down and kissed them away. "Anita, mia, do not grieve. He is a good lad." "It is not that." She hid her face against his shoulder. "It is not that " "I understand," he whispered. After a little time Benito spoke. "Mother, I learned something from the warring of the rancheros aganist Alcalde Bartlett."
The strangers took their places, and Yates had a chance to look at the younger member of the family, which opportunity he did not let slip. It was hard to believe that she was the daughter of so crusty a man as Hiram Bartlett. Her cheeks were rosy, with dimples in them that constantly came and went in her incessant efforts to keep from laughing.
"Mr. Renmark's coming with me this trip, Mrs. Bartlett," young Howard said before the professor had time to reply; "but I'll come over and take tea, if you'll invite me, as soon as I have put the horse up." "You go along with your nonsense," she said; "I know you." Then in a lower voice she asked: "How is your mother, Henry and Margaret?" "They're pretty well, thanks."
The Comice pear blooms with the Bartlett, and would therefore presumably be of pollinizing benefit to the Bartlett if the latter should require such treatment. Common experience in California, however, is that the Bartlett is self-fertile and not self-sterile as it is commonly reported in Eastern publications.
He would feel like a ninny going back and telling Mr. Bartlett that he had decided to pay cash, that he had changed his mind about opening a charge account for the Martin family. "I'll get my bill changed at the A & P," Jerry decided. And went so fast in that direction that the bag holding the potatoes fell out of the cart and broke and Jerry lost two of them down a sewer.
The other was Sam Bartlett, the very same who had left East Harniss that morning, bound, ostensibly, for Boston. Issy sank back again and listened. "Yes, yes!" he heard Sam say impatiently; "I know, but see here, Jake, where can I hire a horse in this God-forsaken town?" "Well, well, Sam!" continued Larkin.
Bartlett to make out the grocery slip. The candy in the showcase next to the cash register looked luscious. Jerry wondered how many pieces there were in a half pound and thought of asking but decided against it. Jerry was still hopeful that Mr. Bartlett would at least make it a heavy half pound when the bill was paid.
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