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He would certainly wish you to go with us, for he would know that your experience and strong arm would be above all things needful." "Then I will go at once," Jethro agreed. "There are two or three excursions she has been wanting to make, and I think I can promise that she shall go on one of them to-day.
"I have taken a fancy to this girl, Jethro," said the little railroad president, "I believe I'll steal her; a fellow can't have too many of 'em, you know. I'll tell you one thing, you won't keep her always shut up here in Coniston. She's much too good to waste on the desert air." Perhaps Mr. Merrill, too, had been thinking of the Elegy that morning.
Hopkins did not speak as though this quality of his daughter gave him unmixed delight. "But she's a good-hearted gal, Cassy is, high-spirited, and I won't deny she's handsome and smart." "She'll kind of grace my position when I'm governor. But to tell you the truth, Jethro, one old friend to another, durned if I don't wish she was married.
"Mornin', Dudley," said the head, "busy?" "Come right in, Judge," answered Mr. Worthington. "Never too busy to see you." The head disappeared. "Take my advice, Mr. Wetherell." And then the storekeeper went into the bank. For some moments he stood dazed by what he had heard, the query ringing in his head: Why had Jethro Bass bought that note?
He leaned back in his chair, then leaned forward, stretching his neck and clearing his throat, a position in which he bore a ludicrous resemblance to a turkey gobbler. "Most through the Legislature?" inquired the judge. "'Bout as common," said Jethro.
Cynthia lingered to hear no more, and went out, dazed, into the September sunshine: Jethro beaten, and broken, and gone to Coniston. Resolution came to her as she walked. Arriving home, she wrote a little note and left it on the table for Ephraim; and going out again, ran by the back lane to Mr.
Besides being fatal to a certain domestic animal, as an instigating force it has brought joy and sorrow into the lives of men and women, and made and marred careers. And curiosity now laid hold of Cynthia Ware. Why in the world she should ever have been curious about Jethro Bass is a mystery to many, for the two of them were as far apart as the poles.
"I love him better than anybody in the world. Certainly no one ever had better reason to care for a person. My father failed when he came to Coniston he was not meant for business, and Uncle Jethro took care of him all his life, and paid his debts. And he has taken care of me and given me everything that a girl could wish.
"H-how is it written," said Jethro, leaning over it, "h-how is it written?" "Cynthy," answered Mr. Judson, involuntarily. "Then make it Cynthy make it Cynthy." "Cynthy it shall be," said Mr. Judson, with conviction. "When'll you have it done?" "To-night," replied Mr. Judson, with a twinkle in his eye, "to-night, as a special favor." "What time w-what time?" "Seven o'clock, sir.
He reached out over the coverlet, felt for a sock which he had been learning to knit and, slowly plying the needles, replied: "I only know what Jethro Fawe told me, and he was a promiscuous liar." "I don't think he lied about me," she answered quietly. "He told you I was a Gipsy; he told you that I was married to him. That was true. I was a Gipsy.
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