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This is my nephew Truesdale you've heard all about him; Miss Bertie Patterson, of Madison." Miss Patterson of Madison was a shy, brown-eyed little girl who, at a guess, had been in long dresses but a year or two; as she faced Truesdale she seemed to be wondering if she might venture to smile. She had never before been south of the Wisconsin State line; but Mrs.
I was the guest of honor," he went on, with a savage irony. "With good reason; it was I who paid the bride's dowry." Truesdale sat with his eyes on the floor. "The check; was it was it a large one?" he asked, in a low voice. "Check!" cried Roger again. "I paid them in hundred-dollar bills." His fingers played back and forth many and many times.
Still, the light's good, and the air; and there's a great deal less noise." The others followed Jane's lead with much docility. Truesdale was profoundly impressed by his sister's aspect under these novel conditions; Bertie Patterson seemed to find in her the incarnation of all the town's philanthropy; even Aunt Lydia was almost too deeply affected to chirp and chatter with her wonted volubility.
"Ouf!" said Truesdale; "this comes of trenching on Biblical ground. I'll never quote scripture again." Truesdale had gone to the Belden house in pursuance of the invitation extended at his mother's own tea-table. Eliza Marshall had made a faint effort to dissuade him; despite Mrs.
Truesdale had the same tepid interest for these advices as for her other notes and comments. He did not consider himself as particularly concerned. At best he was but a bird of passage. And it seemed to him a sad error to load one's self down with so dense and stationary a thing as a house. The conferences over this matter went on, however, regardless of Truesdale's non-participation.
But to-day we have all the elements possessed by the old world itself, and we must take whatever they develop, as the old world does. We have the full working apparatus finally, with all its resultant noise, waste, stenches, stains, dangers, explosions." "Um," said Truesdale, to whom these observations sounded disagreeably like oratory; "how does all this bear on my case?
"And you have been to all the high places, I suppose?" "I've been to the top of the Masonic Temple." "And to the places were they have the sun-dials, and the gates ajar, and the American flag made of of Heaven knows what?" "The parks? Yes, we have been to one or two of them, but we were a little late for all those lovely things; most of them had been dug up." "Lovely things!" groaned Truesdale.
This experience still occupied a large place in his thoughts, and he took Katherine's remark as a reflection on his personal courage. Though he had no idea of "going to the front," he decided not to go to the Porters' for luncheon. All that morning new people kept streaming into Truesdale.
"I declare," he said, running several sheets over in succession, "she gets blinder and blinder the further along she goes. And now" turning back to the beginning "let's see what it's all about." The letter assumed from the outset a mysterious and melodramatic tone. "Perhaps, finally, she really has something to say," commented Truesdale.
Fitch's function was that of the moderate counsellor and bellwether for new members, hence nothing could have been more fitting than the choice of that gentleman for the honour of moving, on the morrow, that Bill No. 709 ought to pass. Mr. Truesdale reluctantly consented to accept a small "loan" that would help to pay the mortgage on his new press....
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