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Winfield is disposed to it, he can give me a lemonade set one of them what has different coloured tumblers belongin' to it." "He'll be pleased to send it, Aunty; I know he will." "I'm a-layin' out to take part of them two hundred dollars what's sewed up in James's belt, and buy me a new black silk," she went on.
"James is real indulgent," she said to Winfield, with a certain modest pride which was at once ludicrous and pathetic. "He should be, Mrs. Ball," returned the young man, gallantly. She looked at him closely, as if to discover whether he was in earnest, but he did not flinch. "Young feller," she said, "you ain't layin' out to take no excursions on the water, be you?"
Ruth thought it would be an act of kindness to paste the loose clippings into Aunt Jane's book, and she could look them over as she fastened them in. The work progressed rapidly, until she found a clipping which was not a recipe. It was a perfunctory notice of the death of Charles Winfield, dated almost eighteen years ago.
God said, 'He would stand by me, and who but He, has." I got so many letters from poor, distracted mothers, who wrote so often: "For God's sake come here." In some letters there was money. One letter from a United Brethren church in Winfield, Kansas; the minister, Bro. Hendershot, wrote me that he took up a collection in their church for me of $7.38. How I cried over that letter and kissed it!
These waterways, when dredged, would be amply deep enough for yachts and small craft of all descriptions, and the first important thought which occurred to Winfield was that the mud and sand so dredged could be used to fill in the low, marshy levels of soil between them and the sea and so make it all into high, dry, and valuable land.
He fancied that Mrs. Dale had not, after all, spoken to Winfield, but if she had, how much further would it go? Would White hear of it through Colfax? Would he keep it a secret if he knew? Never! The folly of what he had been doing began to dawn upon him dimly. What was it that he had been doing?
"Did they get any?" asked the drummer, interested. The third officer spat disgustedly over the rail. "You ask Winfield. Or, rather, don't, because I guess it's not his pet subject. He told me all about it when he was getting better. There was gold there, all right, in chunks. It only needed to be dug for. And somebody else did the digging. Of all the skin games!
Before I was aware I had spent an hour in pleasant chat, for with the Yocombs as mutual friends we had common interests. Mrs. Winfield, my hostess, had all the elegance of Mrs. Bradford; but there was also a simple, friendly heartiness in her manner that stamped every word she spoke with sincerity.
His own brains would be of some value here, for Winfield was anxious to have him lay this out, and this would bring him in touch with not only one of the best real estate men in the city, but would bring him into contact with a whole host of financiers in business, people who would certainly become interested in this venture.
Bailey had pulled himself together with a supreme effort and had achieved a frozen calm. "Such a marriage is, of course, out of the question," he said. "Why?" "My sister cannot marry a a nobody, an outsider " "Mr. Winfield is not a nobody. He is an extraordinarily healthy young man." "Are you aware that Ruth, if she had wished, could have married a prince?" "She told me.