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Updated: June 9, 2025
She had told the Colonel her intention, and obtained Alison's assurance that Ermine's stay at Myrtlewood need not be impracticable, and armed with their consent, she made her timid tap at Miss Williams' door, and showed her sweet face within it. "May I come in? Your sister and your little niece are gone for a walk. I told them I would come! I did want to see you!"
"It is all a mistake. I am not the man. It is Eustace. Eu, I wish you joy, old chap " Mr. Prosser was at the table with a great will lying spread out on it. "I am afraid Mr. Alison is right, Miss Alison," he said. "The property is bequeathed to the eldest of the late Mr. Alison's grandsons born here, not specifying by which father.
It dried him up." . . . . Irritation was creeping back into the banker's voice. "Then it came into Alison's head that she wanted to 'make something of her life, as she expressed it. She said she was wasting herself, and began going to lectures with a lot of faddish women, became saturated with these nonsensical ideas about her sex that are doing so much harm nowadays.
Alison's heart, which had lain so dead in her breast, began suddenly to stir and dance with a queer excitement. After all, had she made a mistake? Was Jim really faithful to her after all? But, no; how could she mistake? She had heard the words herself.
"By God, it is the first time," Alison cried and turned on him so fiercely that he started back. There was a servant at the door saying something which went unheard. Then Susan Burford came into the room, an odd contrast in her placid simplicity to the amazed magnificence of Mr. Waverton or Alison's tremulous, furious beauty.
Alison had met Eleanor Goodrich in Burton Street, and as the two made their way into the crowded vestibule they encountered Martha Preston, whose husband was Alison's cousin, in the act of flight. "You're not going in!" she exclaimed. "Of course we are." Mrs. Preston stared at Alison in amazement. "I didn't know you were still here," she said, irrelevantly.
"Good-evening," said Louisa, accompanying her words with a sweeping courtesy which she considered full of style and grace. She went home chuckling to herself. "I guess that acting will finish up Alison's love affair," she thought. "It won't be any fault of mine if it doesn't. Oh, good-evening, Mr. Sampson."
There was silence for a while, and Alison watched with new emotions the tired, wistful face. "Weston, dear, I want you to come back to me. I want Mr. Harry to find you with me when he comes home." Mrs. Weston cried out, "He does not know who I am!" in anxious fear, and clutched at Alison's hand. "No, indeed. But he loves you already, I think." "But I do not want him to know," Mrs. Weston cried.
'The "but" doesn't sound very complimentary to me, Francie, said Jacinth laughingly; and her mother, glancing at her, was struck by the wonderful charm of the smile that overspread her face. 'I wasn't thinking of you that way, said Frances, bluntly. 'I was thinking of Aunt Alison. 'Aunt Alison's not pretty, said Eugene. 'Her's too not smiley enough, not like mamma. 'Eugene! said his mother.
She had dimpled cheeks and sparkling blue eyes, but their expression changed as they fell on Alison's face, expressing something of the wonder of the child's. "Oh, he isn't bothering me," Alison protested. "Do let him stand." "He don't make up to everybody," explained the mother, and the manner of her speech was such a frank tribute that Alison flushed.
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