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Updated: May 3, 2025
Honestly, you've only got to lift your little finger and Oh, good Lord, there's Algie! Claire looked up. A dapper, trim little man of about forty was threading his way among the tables in their direction. It was a year since Claire had seen Lord Wetherby, but she recognized him at once.
Matters were in this state when Lady Wetherby, who, having danced classical dances for three months without a break, required a rest, shifted her camp to the house which she had rented for the summer at Brookport, Long Island, taking with her Algie, her husband, the monkey Eustace, and Claire and Mr Pickering, her guests.
'I don't know that I'm so stuck on Clarence myself, said Lady Wetherby, weakly. 'My darling! 'Wait a minute. I've not said I would get rid of him. 'But you will? Lady Wetherby's hesitation lasted but a moment. 'All right, Algie. I'll send him to the Zoo to-morrow. 'My precious pet! A hand, reaching under the table, enveloped Claire's in a loving clasp.
Interviews, you know, and Advice to Young Girls in the evening papers, and How I preserve my beauty, and all that sort of thing. Well, one thing he made me do was to buy a snake and a monkey. Roscoe Sherriff is crazy about animals as aids to advertisement. He says an animal story is the thing he does best. So I bought them. Algie kicked from the first.
It's my idea that if a thing's worth starting at all, you can't start too soon. Some folks save up their good resolutions for the first of the year, but it's a better way to begin right off as soon as you think of it. And then when the New Year comes, you're just that much ahead." "I'm going to study awful hard," declared Algie, with an air of putting this good counsel to immediate application.
He reached the table and sat down without invitation in the vacant chair. 'Pauline! he said, sorrowfully. 'Algie! said Lady Wetherby, tensely. 'I don't know what you've come here for, and I don't remember asking you to sit down and put your elbows on that table, but I want to begin by saying that I will not be called Pauline. My name's Polly.
"Poor fellow!" said the Connoisseur; "they tell me he was going to take the hounds." "And there are his delightful coverts, too. Algie often used to shoot there, and now they say he just has his brother down to shoot with him. It's really quite too melancholy! Did you know him, Dick?" "Foliot?" replied Shelton absently. "No; I never met him: I've seen her once or twice at Ascot."
She dropped in after breakfast to announce that Miss Perkins credited Algie with having the best head for arithmetic of any boy in her room and came again at noon to suggest taking Malcolm and Celia for a walk. But though she distributed her favors with creditable impartiality, she found the baby peculiarly fascinating.
Algie's so rich, so appallingly rich, that I have to be perpetually on the watch to keep other women away from him and it's too exhausting...." "Algie?" Mrs. Vanderlyn's lovely eyebrows rose. "Algie: Algie Bockheimer. Didn't you know, I think he said you've dined with his parents. Nobody else in the world is as rich as the Bockheimers; and Algie's their only child.
Of course I know you count it an engagement and all that, and everybody's been writin' to congratulate you. But Algie thinks you ought to give yourselves a chance. Young people don't always know what they're about, you know; it's not long to wait." "Three months!" gasped Shelton. He had to swallow down this pill with what grace he could command. There was no alternative.
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