United States or Zimbabwe ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Wintermill," said Anne amiably. "There isn't much choice." "How is your mother?" "Quite well, thank you. And how is Mr. Wintermill?" "As I was saying, Mrs. Fenn dances beautifully. Percy,—he's really quite silly about dancing,—Percy says she's the best he knows. I do not pretend to dance all of the new ones myself, but—Did you inquire about Mr. Wintermill?
There are no Wintermill skeletons hanging in our closets. We've both succeeded in dodging them, praise the Lord." It so happened that Percy's excessively homely sister had been considered at one time as a most desirable helpmate for the rapidly developing George, and it is barely possible that the little mustard girl upset a social dynasty. Mr. Thorpe was as good as his word.
"And you'll not touch another drop to-night?" said Dodge, as they crossed over to the line of taxi-cabs. George halted. "Say, what's on your mind, Simmy? Are you afraid I'll go off my nut and create a scene,—perhaps mop up the sidewalk with some one like Percy Wintermill or—well, any one of those nuts in there? That the idea you've got? Well, let me set you right, my boy.
As a peculiar—and not especially commendable—example of her present state of unselfishness, she stopped for luncheon with her pretty little sister- in-law, and either forgot or calmly ignored the fact that she had promised Percy Wintermill and his sister to lunch with them at Sherry's.
Her visitor gave it up, sinking back with a faint sigh. "I've had millions of roses and orchids and violets since I landed. Every one has been so nice." Mrs. Wintermill sat up a little straighter in her chair. "New York men are rather punctilious about such things," she ventured. It was an inquiry. "Captain Poindexter, Dickie Fowless, Herb. Vandervelt,—oh, I can't remember all of them.
"He is said to be in a hopeless condition," she added, pronouncing the words slowly. "I—I had not heard of it, Mrs. Wintermill," murmured Anne, going cold to the very marrow. "Every one has given him up. It is terrible. A few days ago he sent for Braden Thorpe and—well, it was announced in the papers that there will be an operation to-morrow or the next day. Of course, he cannot survive it.
Turning to her son, she continued: "George, if you will mail a check to Percy this minute, I will draw one for you. A Tresslyn cannot owe money to a Wintermill. We will say no more about it. The subject is closed. Sit down there and draw a check for the amount, and I will sign it. Rawson will post it." George turned his head away, and lowered his chin. A huskiness came quickly into his voice.
Word Of The Day