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At the foot of the falls the waters flung themselves against the massive granite barrier, and then, turning at a right angle, plunged downward in a series of wild rapids that completely eclipsed in picturesqueness and grandeur and force even the famous rapids at Niagara. Contemplating this incomparable scene, Miss Sommerton forgot all about her objectionable travelling companion.
"I don't think we'd better. You see we might have to wait quite a long time. I don't know when Miss Sommerton will be here again, and it will be a week at least before Mrs. Mason comes back. They are more than half-way to Three Rivers by this time." "Good gracious!" cried Trenton, abashed; "why didn't you call me? I should have liked very much to have accompanied them."
But if you are a lady of leisure and wealth, I suppose there is no harm in your continuing as long as you see fit. Yours truly, JOHN TRENTON." Miss Sommerton, whose eyes had opened wider and wider as this reading went on, said sharply "He has shown you the letter. You have seen it before it was sent." "I admit that," said the artist. "Well I will believe all you like to say about Mr.
We didn't hear them shout, did we, Miss Sommerton?" "No," replied that young woman, looking at the dying fire, whose glowing embers seemed to redden her face. "Why, do you know," said Mason, "it looks as if you had been quarrelling. I guess I came just in the nick of time." "You are always just in time, Mr. Mason," said Miss Sommerton. "For we were quarrelling, as you say.
"I refuse to think of it; or, if I do think of it, I refuse to be dazzled by his magnificence. I want to see the Shawenegan, not a picnic party drinking. "You wrong them, really you do, Miss Sommerton, believe me. You have got your dates mixed. It is the champagne party that goes to-day. The beer crowd is not due until to-morrow." "The principle is the same." "The price of the refreshment is not.
The situation was too ridiculous for Miss Sommerton to remain very long indignant about it. So she put her hand in her pocket and drew out a plug of tobacco, and with a bow handed it to the artist. "Thanks," he replied; "I shall borrow a pipeful and give you back the remainder. Have you ever tried the English birdseye? I assure you it is a very nice smoking tobacco."
"If you lose, die game, Tom," she murmured, as he pressed her fingers and passed on. The young man's appearance on the stand called forth a tremendous roar of applause. Certainly he was popular. Colonel Sommerton felt a queer shock of surprise thrill along his nerves. Could it be possible that he would lose? No; the thought was intolerable.
Colonel Sommerton, though notably eccentric, could be depended upon for outright dealing in general; still Phyllis had a pretty substantial belief that in politics success lay largely on the side of the trickster. For many years the Colonel had been in the Legislature. No man had been able to beat him for the nomination.
Sommerton Place, a picturesque old mansion, as mansions have always gone in north Georgia, stood in a grove of oaks on a hill-top overlooking a little mountain town, beyond which uprose a crescent of blue peaks against a dreamy summer sky. Behind the house a broad plantation rolled its billow-like ridges of corn and cotton.
Miss Sommerton smiled in spite of herself, and Trenton busily unstrapped the camera-box, pulled out the little instrument, and fished up from the bottom a neatly-folded white table-napkin, in which were wrapped several sandwiches. "Now," he continued, "I have a folding drinking-cup and a flask of sherry. It shows how absent-minded I am, for I ought to have thought of the wine long ago.
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