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A flight of stone steps ran from the doorway to a short tesselated entrance leading to the street, where two scraggy poplars still held aloft the withered skeletons of last year's tulips. The Webbs had taken the house because the box bushes in the yard reminded Eugenia of Battle Hall, while Dudley declared it to be the best breathing space he could get for the money.
"There's not a better man in the county," admitted the general, "or a worse farmer. Here I've let him go down hill at his own gait for more than thirty years, to be pulled up in the end by a chit of a girl. I wouldn't, if I were you, Eugie. He's old and he's slow." "Oh! I'll promise not to hurt him," returned Eugenia. "I save him a lot of hard work, and he likes it."
"Displeased me? Well, I guess not!" said Clifford, with a laugh. "Why have n't you come, then?" "Well, because I am afraid of getting shut up in that back room." Eugenia kept looking at him. "I should think you would like that." "Like it!" cried Clifford. "I should, if I were a young man calling upon a charming woman." "A charming woman is n't much use to me when I am shut up in that back room!"
I gave him a guinea, and ran, without stopping, into the garrison, and down Point-Street, to the "Star and Garter," where I was received by Eugenia, who, with great presence of mind, called me her "dear, dear husband!" in the hearing of the people of the house. My wet clothes attracted her notice. I told her what I had done to obtain an interview with her.
She wore the same black dress and the same point of lace over her white hair. And by her side stood Monsieur Le Duc, more solemn and splendid than ever and as gravely welcoming of his guests as the Countess herself. Madame explained that Eugenia had been unable to leave the hospital to be at home to greet her friends, but hoped to see them in a few days.
"Yes," said Eugenia, "and I said what a pity it was that we were too old to play Indian; that I had had the blues all day, and felt that nothing would do me so much good as to get out some place where nobody could hear, and yell and carry on at the top of my voice.
Hastings told of his foolish fancy for Eugenia, and related the circumstance of his having overheard her conversation at the hotel in Rochester. "And Dora, you say, is beautiful and good," said Uncle Nat; "and I shall one day know her and see if there is in her aught like her angel mother, whose features are as perfect to me now as when last I looked upon them beneath the locust trees."
He did not know how many times, at his approach, it was snatched from the cradle by Eugenia, who, in reality, was not remarkably fond of baby-tending, and who, in the absence of the father, left the child almost wholly to the care of her mother and sister. Management, however, was everything, and fancying she had found the shortest avenue to Mr.
Then, it occurred to him that, in order to succeed, he must for a time at least appear perfectly natural must continue to visit at Locust Grove, just as he had been in the habit of doing must meet Eugenia face to face, and even school himself to listen to the sound of her piano, which he felt would grate so harshly on his ear. And all this he could do if in the end Dora would be benefited.
"I'm not going to be cheated out of my share of the wedding, no mattah what a dahk past eithah of you had. Forget it, and come and help us hunt the foah-leaf clovahs that Eugenia wants for the dream-cake boxes." "What are they?" asked Miles Bradford, as he edged out of the pantry after the others.
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