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And no woman had ever cause to blame him or do anything but love him. Still, dear, Master Theobald's the husband for you. Isn't he young and bonny, like yourself? And Captain Cardew has a white head. He's old by you, Miss Bawn." I remembered the old, childish days when she had been tenderer to me than Maureen, and she looked at me so wistfully that I could not be angry with her.
We will, however, postpone any further remarks upon Mr. Cardew: a little later we shall hear something about his early history, which may perhaps explain and partly exculpate him. As to Catharine, she escaped. It is vexatious that a complicated process in her should be represented by a single act which was transacted in a second.
This was a man, a fine, up-standing fellow, with a clean-cut, sensitive face, and honest, almost beautiful eyes. How did women judge men, anyhow? And, try as he would, Howard Cardew could find no fault with Willy Cameron that night. He tried him out on a number of things. In religion, for instance, he was orthodox, although he felt that the church had not come up fully during the war.
"I am not. Listen, and I will tell you what has happened." Mr. Cardew then related his brief interview with Merry, and Merry's passionate desire to go to Aylmer House. "And what did you say to her, love?" asked his wife. "I told her it was impossible, of course." "But it really isn't, dear, you know," said Mrs.
Beside her was a thin young man in a gray suit, and the thin young man was waving an old pipe about, and saying: "Tempora mutantur, Lily. The wise employer " "I am afraid, sir," said Anthony, in a terrible voice, "that you are not acquainted with the rules of my house. I object to pipes. There are cigars in the humidor behind you." "Very sorry, Mr. Cardew," Willy Cameron explained. "I didn't know.
Maggie could never be beautiful, but her talents were above the average, and her moral nature now received every stimulus in the right direction. Merry Cardew could love her, and gain good, not harm, from her influence. But, strange to say although perhaps not strange Aneta was her special friend. It was with Aneta that Maggie mostly spent her holidays.
Howard Cardew, facing the situation with his customary honesty, saw in the gradual return of the men to work only the urgency of providing for their families, and realized that it was not peace that was coming, but an armed neutrality. The Cardew Mills were still down, but by winter he was confident they would be open again. To what purpose? To more wrangling and bickering, more strikes?
A potted primrose sat behind the plate glass of the Eagle Pharmacy, among packets of flower seeds and spring tonics, its leaves occasionally nibbled by the pharmacy cat, out of some atavistic craving survived through long generations of city streets. The children's playground near the Lily furnace was ready; Howard Cardew himself had overseen the locations of the swings and chute-the-chutes.
Anthony Cardew stood in the doorway, looking at her. With her long hair in braids, she seemed young, almost girlish. She looked like the little girl who had gone to dancing school in short white frocks and long black silk stockings, so many years ago. "I've just learned about it, Elinor," he said. He moved to the bed and stood beside it, looking down, but he did not touch her.
Lily Cardew at that stage of her life had a considerable amount of old Anthony's obstinacy and determination, although it was softened by a long line of Cardew women behind her, women who had loved, and suffered dominance because they loved.
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