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And then, after hard work and waiting and our spending so much, and everything comes out exactly as we figured, you go and throw us down not just yourself, but us and our rights! Now you talk straight stuff! Tell us, why did you refuse Sherwood when he proposed? And why did you tell me that lie about his not proposing?"
From the moment of introduction Larry quietly assumed the manner of an art collector who was very sure of himself; which manner was abetted by the setting of the Sherwood library. He felt something of the old zest when wits had been matched against wits, even though this was to be a strictly honorable enterprise. "You know the work of Mr. Jerome Hunt?" he asked.
Sherwood and his wife were on the train bound for Crofton, the nearest station to the old home farm. While they are on the way, a glance at the history of his parents will explain how matters stand at the homestead.
After supper Walter went round with Ashton to a house in Harrison Street the boarding-house referred to. The door was opened by a careworn woman of middle age. "How do you do, Mr. Ashton?" she said, with an inquiring look. "Very well, thank you, Mrs. Canfield. Have you any rooms vacant?" "Are you asking for yourself?" "No, for my young friend here, Mr. Sherwood."
It seemed too bad, Nan Sherwood thought more than once, that Rhoda should have allowed herself to become so frankly ignored by her schoolmates. Nan missed her when the crowd got out of the car in Adminster. This was a larger town than Freeling, and it was on the main railroad line instead of a branch line, as Freeling was. But at that, Adminster was not very metropolitan.
Wellesley's Department of English Literature is unusually fortunate in having as interpreters of the great literature of England a group of women of letters of established reputation. What Longfellow, Lowell, Norton, were to the Harvard of their day, Katharine Lee Bates, Vida D. Scudder, Sophie Jewett, and Margaret Sherwood are to the Wellesley of their day and ours.
This bears the name of Friar Tuck's cell, or hermitage, where, according to tradition, that jovial anchorite used to make good cheer and boisterous revel with his freebooting comrades. Such were some of the vestiges of old Sherwood and its renowned "yeomandrie," which I visited in the neighborhood of Newstead.
Sherwood turned to Dexie, saying: "Give us some music, Dexie; something to cheer us up and drive away the blues," and he nodded at Plaisted, who had thrown himself into a chair. But seated at the piano, Dexie still kept up the torture of the dinner table by selecting songs that suggested fishing, or fishermen's daughters, until Plaisted rose and walked the floor in ill-concealed distress.
You may observe my pulse every five minutes if you desire. Only please tell me how this is to be accomplished; because, you see, I live in the Sherwood Studio Building, and you live on Madison Avenue." "I I have a ward a room fitted up with every modern surgical device every improvement," she said. "It adjoins my office.
"My dear child!" Mr. Sherwood said urgently. "I want you to listen to me. Our situation is such that we cannot possibly take you with us. That is final. It is useless for us to discuss the point, for there is nothing to be gained by discussing it from now till Doomsday." Nan gulped down a sob and looked at him with dry eyes.
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