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There was banter in Everett's voice and a smile on his lips, but a bitterness lay in the depths of his keen dark eyes and an ugly trace of cynicism filtered through the tones of his voice. "And wasn't it funny for me to count the little well-chickens before they were even hatched?" laughed Rose Mary.
There is now selling for five dollars at Williams & Everett's a photograph of Cheney's crayon drawing of the San Sisto Madonna and Child, which has the very spirit of the glorious original. Such a picture, hung against the wall of a child's room, would train its eye from infancy; and yet how many will freely spend five dollars in embroidery on its dress, that say they cannot afford works of art!
Everett's eyes pierced her gaze until it dropped. "Not if he is bad," murmured she, "and I heard he was brutal to them." "It is not so; of that I am sure. That is the matter I have come about. I have accepted the father's case." "Oh, Everett, was this necessary for you to do, as long as you know Ann's heart is set upon keeping them?" Everett twisted nervously.
"What is there in Everett's cupboard besides the beer?" demands the professor angrily. "For Heaven's sake! attend to me, and don't sit there grinning like a first-class chimpanzee!" This is extremely rude, but Hardinge takes no notice of it. "I tell you she was kind kinder than one would expect," says the professor, rapping his knuckles on the table. "Oh! I see. She? Miss Wynter?" "No Mrs.
"Yes," answered Uncle Tucker as he knocked the ashes out of his pipe against the table and looked straight into Everett's eyes. "After a man has plowed a honest, straight-furrowed field in life it's no more'n fair for Providence to send a-loving, trusting woman to meet him at the bars.
"Let's go in and write the note now." The Ravens, who met now at Pat Everett's house, had neglected Miss Gray of late. Carnations had succeeded the violets, then a single rose. Pat had even experimented with a nosegay of everlastings which she had found in one of the department stores. It had been weeks since they had sent anything.
One reason was that I had avowed, in reply to urgent questions, that I was disappointed in an oration of Mr. Everett's; and another was that I had publicly condemned the institution of slavery. I hope the Boston people have outgrown the childishness of sulking at opinions not in either case volunteered, but obtained by pressure.
He did not find either of his men in the Hon. David Everett's headquarters. The rooms were packed. Perspiring delegates were edging in and oozing out. Everett was industriously shaking hands, his rubicund face sweat-streaked, his voice hoarse after his hours of constant chatter in that smoke-drenched atmosphere. Harlan stood a moment, and looked at him with a sort of shamed pity.
The wood-boy thought the white man was giving him short measure. White men always HAD given him short measure, and, at a glance, he could not recognize that this one was an Everett of Boston. So he opened Everett's fingers. All the blood in Everett's body leaped to his head.
His eyes came back at last to the pasteur. An able face after all; cool, shrewd, and not unspiritual. Very soon, he, the parson whose name was Everett and Elizabeth were drawn into conversation, and Marietta under Everett's good-humoured glance found himself observed as well as observer. "You are trying to decipher us?" said Everett, at last, with a smile. "Well, we are not easy."
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