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Yellett picked up Mary’s trunk and bags and stowed them in the back of the buckboard with the ease with which another woman might handle pasteboard boxes. One or two of the male Rodneys offered to help, but she waved them aside and lashed the luggage to the buckboard, handling the ropes with the skill of an old sailor.
The next day came up out of the ocean fair and warm, and when it drew toward later afternoon no more propitious night for setting forth ever happened. It was undeniably a night to be remembered. And Aunt Mary’s entertainers drew in deep breaths as they girded themselves for the conflict.
Aunt Mary opened her closet door and showed the four dressing-cases. Everyone but Jack was mightily surprised and everyone was mightily pleased. The room looked like Christmas, and the faces, too. "I shall die with my head on the hair brush," Clover declared, and Mitchell went down on his knees and kissed Aunt Mary’s hand.
She thought the arrangement for keeping the table level most ingenious. Mitchell took her into the main cabin and told her that that was hers for the day. On the dresser was a photograph of the "Lady Belle" framed in silver, which the young host presented to his guest as a souvenir of the "voyage." Aunt Mary’s pleasure was at its height.
As it is, my patience is done. If he goes into one more scrape he’ll be done too. I mean what I say. So my young man had better take warnin’. Probably—most likely—pretty certainly." It has been previously stated that Aunt Mary’s nephew, Jack, was a scapegrace, and as delightful as scapegraces generally are.
If I, like Abraham, through flames must go, Or yet like John a bloodstained road must run; If, Joseph-like, Thou’d cast me in a well, Or shut me up within a prison cell— Or make me e’en as poor as Mary’s Son— I will not go from Thee, But ever stand My soul and body bowed to Thy command.
Burnett was Sundaying at the ancestral castle; and Burnett wasn’t the warning sort, anyhow. He was always tow and pitch for any species of flame. So his absence counted for nothing in the crisis. And what ensued was a crisis—a crisis with a vengeance. That tear upon which Aunt Mary’s nephew went was something lurid and awful.
"If I was sure she’d be gone for a week," she said, "I’d go a-visitin’ myself." "She’ll be gone a week," said Joshua; and the manner and matter of his speech were both those of a prophet. Then he went out and the door slammed to behind him. Aunt Mary’s arrival in the city just coincided with the arrival of that day’s five o’clock.
Joshua flicked Billy with the whip and refused to voice any opinion as to New York’s effect on his mistress. Arethusa was well on her way to Boston when Aunt Mary’s bell, rung with a sharp jangle, summoned Lucinda to open her bedroom blinds.
There—now you won’t take cold, Aunt Mary." The cap, with its fore-piece, was the crowning glory of Aunt Mary’s get-up. The brain measurements of him who had bought the cap being to its present wearer’s as five is to three, the effect of its proportions, in addition to the goggles and the ear-trumpet, was such as to have overawed a survivor of Medusa’s stare.
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