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Updated: June 22, 2025
Banbridge had its own "season," beginning shortly after Thanksgiving, and warming gradually until about two weeks before Lent, when it reached its high-water mark. All winter long there were luncheons and teas and dances. There was a whist club, and a flourishing woman's club, of course. It was the women who were thrown with the most entirety upon the provincial resources.
After she had gone out in the dining-room and seen that it was eight-seventeen, the time when the train was due in Banbridge, she watched for the train. She knew that she could hear the rush of the train after it left the station; she could even catch a glimpse of the rosy fire of the locomotive through the trees, since the track was elevated. She therefore watched for that, but it was very late.
None was above them in Banbridge, no shame of wrong-doing or folly had ever been known by either of them, and now both their finely bonneted heads were in the dust. They stood before this handsome, courteously smiling gentleman and were conscious of a very nakedness of spirit. Their lust of curiosity was laid bare, they were caught in the act. Mrs.
He gave up his professional business in Banbridge, removed with his wife and family to Dublin, and there throwing himself heart and soul into the cause, fought it out boldly and impetuously until the day when, bound in British chains, "the enemy" bore him off from Ireland.
Van Dorn paid no attention, for then the door was opened and Mrs. Morris's maid appeared, with cap awry and her white apron over a blue-checked gingham which was plainly in evidence at the sides. The ladies gave her their cards, and followed her into the best parlor, which was commonly designated in Banbridge as the reception-room. The best parlor was furnished with a sort of luxurious severity.
"What next?" "The Lord knows!" "Something has to be done. We are up against a dead wall again. And for some reason it strikes me as a deader wall than ever before." Carroll nodded. "We cannot stay in Banbridge any longer?" Anna said, interrogatively. "We may have to," Carroll replied, curtly. "You mean?" "There may be a little difficulty about getting out.
The Carroll family, when absent from one another, were all good correspondents, with the exception of Carroll. There was even a little letter from Eddy, which had been missent, because he had spelled Banbridge like two words Ban Bridge. Charlotte read her letters, smiling over them, standing aloof by the window. The post-office was fast thinning out.
He reflected that she was the Banbridge dressmaker, and that Charlotte was probably having her trousseau made there, which was a deduction that only a masculine mind of vivid imagination could have evolved. Charlotte was gazing eagerly across at her sister. "It does not rain nearly so hard now," said she. "I think I might venture." She looked irresolutely at her hat on the counter.
At all events, while the number of Arthur Carroll's detractors was greatly in advance of his adherents, the moral atmosphere of Banbridge, while lowering, was still very far from cyclonic for him. He got little credit, yet still friendly, admiring, and even obsequious recognition. The invitations to his daughter's wedding had been eagerly accepted.
"Don't they bring them to the door in Banbridge?" asked Arms, wonderingly. "They used when we first came here," said Eddy. "I guess " Then he stopped in obedience to a look from his aunt. "I will bring them when I come home," repeated Carroll. "Well, we'll all go in to-morrow night, and we'll see that dance," said the major.
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