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Updated: June 9, 2025
Fifty or a hundred years ago the man who was a "slow coach" to-day would be "geared low." At least two of the many interesting buildings hereabouts are worth noting. Standing back from the road a quarter of a mile or so, and within the compass of the Ardsley Club grounds, is a plain little cottage whose clapboards show no mark of the planing mill. Here once lived the redoubtable Col.
"You'll simply have to keep on trying, till you happen to strike it." "But how am I to live?" "Ah," said Mr. Ardsley, "that is the problem." He smiled, rather sadly, as he sat watching the lad. "You see how I've solved it," he went on. "I was young once myself, and I tried to write novels. And in those days I blamed the publishers I thought they stood in my way.
Shelly, was to come to share her room at Artemis for the rest of the time. All had been arranged with Miss Ardsley by telephone while Patricia was yet in bed. Patricia was so excited by this surprising news that she hurried off to Miss Ardsley's rooms with Bruce's unopened letter still in her hand.
Besides these, there were platforms to build at Van Cortlandt and Mount Kisco, water-towers at Highbridge and Ardsley, a sidewalk and drain at Caryl, a culvert and an ash-pit at Bronx Park, and some forty concrete piers for a building at Melrose all of which required any amount of running and figuring, to say nothing of the actual work of superintending and constructing, which Rourke alone could look after.
Artemis Lodge was only a few squares distant and she almost ran the short blocks, arriving at the green entrance door out of breath and suddenly realizing that the custodian left at eleven o'clock and Rosamond had the night key which Miss Ardsley allowed only to privileged ones.
"I wish I could go to Miss Tatten," she thought, drawing the door softly to behind her and hurrying through the sitting-room. "She's the one in charge, after all. And she doesn't make so much conversation about things as Miss Ardsley does."
Ardsley, who told him it would not sell, and then gave him another lecture upon his folly in not having written the "practical" novel; and then he took it to the publisher for whom Prof. Osborne acted as reader. So he had another conference with that representative of authority.
Ardsley, and about his promises to be "practical." Something arose within him, imperious and majestic, and swept all this out of the way with one gesture of the hand. He dropped everything else and plunged into the play. Never yet in his life had anything taken hold of him to such an extent; it drove him so that he forgot to eat, he forgot to sleep.
She met Miss Tatten on the way upstairs, however, and she poured out her tale of woe, grateful for the chance of enlisting the sturdy common sense of the house-keeper. "Ah, indeed," was Miss Tatten's only comment. Her arched eyebrows rose with nervous twitches and her deep contralto voice rolled sonorously. "Have you notified Miss Ardsley? Has a physician been called?"
"Every apartment in the Lodge is filled at present, and unless someone should leave, I do not see how we can hope to have the pleasure of Miss Kendall's being with us." Mrs. Spicer, always practical and to the point, demanded if there were any prospect of a removal. Miss Ardsley feared not, since the Lodge was so deservedly popular.
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