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"Well," said Kinney, thoughtfully, pausing with the rolling-pin in his hand, "there 'a such a thing as being too liberal, I suppose." "The world's tried the other thing a good while," said Bartley, with cynical amusement at Kinney's arrest. It seemed to chill the flow of the good fellow's optimism, so that he assented with but lukewarm satisfaction.
"I should think you were running a seminary for young ladies, instead of a logging-camp," said Bartley. "No, but look at it: I'm in earnest about tea. You look at the tea drinkers and the coffee-drinkers all the world over! Look at 'em in our own country! All the Northern people and all the go-ahead people drink tea. The Pennsylvanians and the Southerners drink coffee.
This was a novel conception to Marcia, but its good sense struck her. "Well, I will," she said. "I'll run up a minute to leave my things, and then I'll come back." She found Bartley dragging the table, on which he had already laid out his writing-materials, into a good light, and she threw her arms round his neck, as if they had been a great while parted.
Instantly the girl started from her position, and stood wrapt in thought; her beautiful eyes wore a strange look of dreamy intelligence, and both men could see she was searching the past for that voice. Bartley drew back, that the girl might not see him, and held up his finger. Hope gave a slight nod of acquiescence, and spoke no more.
They found the boy stolidly waiting for Marcia on the veranda of the hotel, stamping first upon one foot and then the other, and hugging himself in his great-coat as the coming snow-fall blew its first flakes in his face. "Is that you, Andy?" asked Bartley. "Yes, sir," answered the boy, without surprise at finding him with Marcia. "Well, here! Just take hold of the colt's head a minute."
"But after a while," she presently went on, "there came an upheaval in the styles; sleeves got smaller, an' skirts began to be nipped in. Minnie's dress warn't wore a particle but it looked as out-of-date as Joseph's coat would look on Willie. The women sorter nudged one another an' said that now Mis' Bartley Coffin would have to step down a peg an' stop bein' leader of the fashions."
Bartley saved himself by suddenly springing away. "Hollo here!" he shouted. "What do you mean by this infernal nonsense?" "What do you mean," retorted the drunkard, "by makin' up to my girl?" "You're a fool," cried Bartley, "and drunk!" "I'll show you whether I'm a fool, and I'll show you whether I'm drunk," said Morrison.
Oh, Mr. Hubbard, he thought the world of you!" and did not ask him how or why he had done it. After they had got Henry on the bed, Bartley was no longer of use there; but they let him remain in the corner into which he had shrunk, and from which he watched all that went on, with a dry mouth and faltering breath.
It soon found its way to Clifford Hall, and the deputy ran himself with the news to Mr. Bartley. Bartley received it at first with a stony glare, and trembled all over; then the deputy, lowering his voice, said, "Sir, the worst of it is, there is foul play in it. There is good authority to say that Ben Burnley fired the mine to destroy his betters, and he has done it; for Mr.
She was always a lovely girl." "Why, you said she was 'a long black thing." "Oh, that was before she looked engaged." After this young Fitzroy was generally Miss Clifford's companion in her many walks, and Walter Clifford had a delightful time with Mary Bartley. Her nurse discovered how matters were going. But she said nothing.
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