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Updated: June 16, 2025
"Whereinell were you, Hughie?" he inquired. "Hunted all over for you. Had a sousin' good time. Went to Babcock's had champagne then to see Babesh in th' Woods. Ham knows one of the Babesh had supper with four of 'em. Nice Babesh!" "For heaven's sake don't step on me again!" I cried. "Sh'poloshize, old man. But y'know I'm William Shakespheare. C'n do what I damplease."
Dorothy stared, amazed; but she needn't have done so: Alfy was "her mother's daughter" as the saying goes, and inherited that good woman's love of horseflesh and fearlessness; and as she settled herself and received the bridle reins she kept murmuring the marvellous fact: "A whole horse mine! And Ma Babcock's only got Barnaby!"
Newman had a great contempt for immorality, and that evening, for a good half hour, as he sat watching the star-sheen on the warm Adriatic, he felt rebuked and depressed. He was at a loss how to answer Babcock's letter. His good nature checked his resenting the young minister's lofty admonitions, and his tough, inelastic sense of humor forbade his taking them seriously.
Alfy's tears really hurt her, for a moment, till Dolly explained, with an arm about the weeper's waist: "I reckon these must be what I've heard of as 'happy tears, dear Lady Gray. Alfy is too pleased to do anything else even to say 'thank you' yet." Queer little Alfy had dropped her head on Dorothy's shoulder and was repeating in a low tone: "A whole horse of my own! Mine, Alfy Babcock's!
He had been reading near the window. He was in his shirt-sleeves, his collar open at the throat. He seemed rather feeble. His legs shook as if he were weak from some recent illness. About the eyes was a certain kindliness that did not escape Babcock's quick glance; they were clear and honest, and looked straight into his the kind he liked.
The obscurity of this remark was presently made clear to his friend, who had hoped perhaps to enjoy a snug evening at Babcock's domestic hearth, but who was not averse to playing a different part that of cheering up a father who had lost his baby, and whose wife had left him in the lurch.
Owing to the continued bad weather and the difficulty of shipping small quantities of fuel, the pumping-engines ran out of coal, and a complaint from Babcock's office brought the agent of the coal company to the sea-wall. In times like these Babcock rarely left his work.
Especially as to all appearances, this was the sort of thing Selma liked, also. Presently, perhaps, there would be a baby, and then their cup of domestic happiness would be overflowing. Babcock's long ungratified yearning for the things of the spirit were fully met by these cosey evenings, which he would have been glad to continue to the crack of doom.
But he expected to carry the day in the end, amid a rush of tears, with which his own might be mingled. He trusted to what he regarded as the innate reluctance of the wife to abandon the man she loved, and to the leaven of feminine Christian charity. As a conscientious hater of sin, he did not attempt to minimize Babcock's act or the insult put upon her.
That had been also Babcock's former conception of a good time, and though he had dimly in mind that he was now a husband and church-member, he strove to conduct himself in such a manner as to maintain his self-respect without becoming a spoil sport. During the first day at the fair Babcock managed to preserve this nice distinction.
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