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Updated: July 17, 2025
And I have the strongest desire to experiment in some of those things which I have missed.... Ballin," he exclaimed, "how lovely your daughters are!" The young Earl of Moray glanced up mischievously. "Do you think, sir," he drawled, "that I have made the best selection under the circumstances? Sometimes I think I ought to have made up to Ellen instead of Dorothy."
"My dear sir," said he, "I saw a play last winter in which the question is asked, 'Do you believe in Fairies? I ask you, 'Do you believe in Gypsies?" "In what way?" Ballin asked, and he, too, smiled. "Ranger Ballin," said Forrest, "had another son who was spirited away in childhood by the gypsies. That will explain this visit, which on the face of it is an impertinence.
"Have I," said Ballin, smiling a little doubtfully, "ever had the pleasure of meeting you before? I have a poor memory for faces. But it seems to me that I should not have forgotten yours." "You never saw me but the one time," said Forrest. "That was many years ago, and you would not remember. You were a little wild that night. You sat against me at a game of faro.
Ballin looked up from his chair with the look of a sick man. "It's this, Charlie," he said in a voice that came with difficulty. "It's a mistake to suppose that I am a rich man. Everything in this world that I honestly thought belonged to me belongs to Mr. Forrest." The earl read truth in the ashen, careworn face of his love's father.
He laid his hand lightly upon the young Englishman's shoulder. "You don't mind? I am an old man," he said, "but I cannot tell you what meeting you has meant to me. I want you to come with me now, for a few minutes, to Mr. Ballin. Will you?" "Mr. Ballin," said Forrest, his hand still on the earl's shoulder, "I want you to tell this young man what only you and I know."
Ballin opened an old-fashioned safe in the paneling and locked it upon the despoiling documents. Yet his heart, in spite of its dread and bitterness, was warmed by the trustfulness of the despoiler. "And now what?" he said. "And now," said Forrest, "remember for a little while only that I am, let us say, an old friend of your youth.
And there stood upon an octagonal table a bowl of roses. There was a gentleman in the embrasure of a window, smoking a cigar and looking out. But at the sound of Forrest's step he turned an alert, close-cropped, gray head and stepped out of the embrasure. "Mr. Ballin?" said Forrest. "I am Mr. Ballin." His eyes perused the stranger with astonishing speed and deftness, without seeming to do so.
And then the matter which brings me here was brought to my attention." "Yes?" said Ballin, a little more coolly. "When you were in Sacramento," Forrest went on quietly and evenly as if stating an acknowledged fact, "you did not expect to come into all this.
From this latter class came such a promising young star of today as Miss Martha Bayard, who bids fair to be national champion at some not distant date. It was a tremendous task of organization that Miss Ballin and her assistants undertook, but they did it in a most efficient manner. Mrs. Molla Bjurstedt Mallory lent her invaluable assistance by playing in as many tournaments as possible.
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