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"Allen?" queried Covington, looking up from his papers. "Yes, Allen Sanford. Do you know him, Mr. Covington? He's a friend of mine and I'm very much interested in him." Then she paused and her face sobered. "Perhaps I ought to let him have this chance," she mused. "He offered to share his chances with me." "Do you mean Stephen Sanford's son?" "Yes. Do you know him?"
Pendleton, who, though his mind remained clear, was slowly dying of paralysis. Thence with Gibson and Sanford down the Rhine to Mr. Sanford's country-seat in Belgium. It was a most beautiful place, a lordly chateau, superbly built, fitted, and furnished, ample for the accommodation of a score of guests, and yet the rent he paid for it was but six hundred dollars a year.
Stannard spoke decidedly, and he had no course but to obey, even though he did not see the grateful look in Miss Sanford's eyes. He much preferred the confidential flavor which was possessed by a parlor interview, but there was no help for it. Following the lead of his hostess, he stepped out upon the piazza just as Mrs.
Bailey produced some champagne and we wished each other joy, that we had made the dangerous crossing and escaped the perils of Sanford's Pass. I am afraid the champagne was not as cold as might have been desired, but the bottle had been wrapped in a wet blanket, and cooled a little in that way, and we drank it with zest, from a mess-cup.
That while the supposed unknown had honored Miss Sanford's window twice, it was getting to be an old story at the colonel's, as the troubadour had appeared under her Cecilia's window almost every night for oh, she didn't know how long. Cecilia had blushingly confessed that morning, and she, Mrs. Whaling, had frequently heard his tinkling guitar and sweet tenor at odd times.
Gleason went away feeling injured and rebuffed. It was Miss Sanford's business, he held, to come down and see him if only for a moment. He had gained his object in being kept back at the post, that he might pursue his wooing. Satisfied of the wealth and social standing of the lady, he felt no doubt whatever that if given a fair field he could win her, and win her he would.
I presume you will give me prompt information as to the charges;" and, facing about, went slowly and deliberately to his quarters. Mrs. Stannard stood at the door-way until she saw him turn, then, taking Miss Sanford's hand, drew her within the hall, saying simply, "Come." "What can it mean, Mrs. Stannard? Surely he will stop and tell us." "He cannot, Miss Marion.
We could not indulge, in foolish scruples, but I tried not to look when they tied the live sheep and threw them into one of the wagons. Quite early in the day, we met a man who said he had been fired upon by some Indians at Sanford's Pass. We thought perhaps he had been scared by some stray shot, and we did not pay much attention to his story.
The effort was a failure, due quite as much to the jealous and suspicious nature of the lady of the house as to Miss Sanford's unconquerable prejudice. Pretences for rupture were easily found; the rupture came; Mrs. Sanford did all the talking, Miss Sanford said nothing. When her father came home from the city he found his new wife in tears and his daughter fled.
She grabs holt of things, seeing they belong to her in a way, an' seeing she's fed Trevors his time. I might go trailing my luck some other-where, if I did the first fool thing that plopped into my nut. But playing fair, I'm going to stick an' do my damnedest to see Luke Sanford's girl put up her scrap. Yes, sir." "What did she want to fire Trevors for?" asked Benny, the cook.
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