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Updated: June 25, 2025
"I have given Barbara the blue room," said Lady Ashbridge, after a little thought. "I am afraid she may bring her great dog with her. I hope he will not quarrel with Petsy. Petsy does not like other dogs." The day had been very hot, and Lord Ashbridge, not having taken any exercise, went off to have a round of golf with the professional of the links that lay not half a mile from the house.
He would do anything in the world for him." The discussion with Barbara was being even more fruitless than that with his wife, and Lord Ashbridge rose. "All I can do, then, is to ask you not to back Michael up," he said. "My dear, he won't need backing up. He's a match for you by himself. But if Michael, after thoroughly worsting you, asks me my opinion, I shall certainly give it him.
But he saw that if only Lord Ashbridge was selfish enough to consent to it, it had manifest merits. His mother would be alone with him, free of the presence that so disconcerted her. "I propose, then," he said, "that she and I should remain in town, as you want to be at Ashbridge." He had been almost ashamed of suggesting it, but no such shame was reflected in his father's mind.
A banquet in honor of Miss Susan B. Anthony and the other national officers took place at the New Century Club, the guests including Mayor Samuel Ashbridge and his wife. His progressiveness contrasts strongly with the fact that sixteen years later the suffragists were unable to persuade Mayor Thomas B. Smith to welcome their Fiftieth Annual Convention to the city.
She understood well enough for his purposes. "I see," she said. Michael paused for a moment. "I think I'll be going now," he said. "I am off to Ashbridge in two days. Give Hermann my love, and a jolly Christmas to you both. I'll let you know when I am back in town." She had no reply to this; she saw its justice, and acquiesced. "Good-bye, then," said Michael.
Lord Ashbridge became more keenly aware of the disappointment that Michael was to him. "I have not been so fortunate, then," he said. Michael remembered his mother's anxious face, but he could not let this pass. "No, sir," he said, "but you never answered any of my letters. I thought it quite probable that it displeased you to hear from me."
"But by all means come in, mother," he said. "I was not going to bed yet." Lady Ashbridge looked round for her maid. "And will Petsy not annoy you if he sits quietly on my knee?" she asked. "Of course not." Lady Ashbridge took the dog. "There, that is nice," she said. "I told them to see you had a good fire on this cold night. Has it been very cold in London?"
There had been a second interview, no less fruitless than the first, and Lord Ashbridge had told him that when next his presence was desired at home, he would be informed of the fact. His mother had cried in a mild, trickling fashion, but it was quite obvious that in her heart of hearts she was more concerned with a bilious attack of peculiar intensity that had assailed Petsy.
That sound, by some remote form of association, suddenly recalled to Michael's mind certain questions Aunt Barbara had asked him about the Emperor's stay at Ashbridge, and his own recollection of his having gone up and down the river in a launch. There was something further, which he did not immediately recollect.
Master Rowland and Mistress Betty were married by Master Rowland's own brother in the Vicar's own church, with Fiddy and Prissy and the Sedleys for bridesmaids, and Dick Ashbridge for a groom's-man. Cousin Ward, brought all the way from town to represent the bride's relations, was crying as if she were about to lose an only daughter.
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