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Updated: May 9, 2025
"It's the young man that brings messages from the office, ma'am." "Oh, it must be Quin," said Mr. Ranny, rising and going into the hall. "Did you want to see me about something?" Eleanor held her breath to listen. Was it possible that that absurd boy had actually followed her up to the Bartletts' with the intention of going with them on their expedition?
She had more than once hazarded a guess on why a man of Sanderson's tastes should care to remain in so quiet a neighborhood, but could arrive at no solution of the case. In discussing him, she had heard the Bartletts quote his reason, that he was studying practical farming, and later on intended to take it up, on a large scale.
The next day Quin's suit-case, containing all his worldly possessions, was transferred from the small stuffy room over the Martels' kitchen to the large luxurious one over the Bartletts' dining-room.
He missed Rose and her care for him; he missed Cass's friendship; he missed his visits to the Bartletts; and above all he missed his work. His interest still clung to Bartlett & Bangs, and the only times of forgetfulness that he had were when he and Dirks were discussing the business of the firm. What made matters worse was the humid heat of the summer.
"The third point is, What is the social standing of this gentle stranger, whom we will call X? Now, Bartletts do not send their advertisements and samples to Thomas, Richard and Henry. They send, chiefly, to members of the professions and men of means and position.
Professor Sterling was an old young man who had given up his life to entomology; his collection of butterflies was more vital to him than any living issue; the Bartletts regarded him as a mild order of lunatic, whose madness might have taken a more dangerous form than making up long names for every-day common bugs.
All the same she's stupid, she'll make a muddle of it as likely as not. And Womball's boy is livelier than Bartletts'. That's something after all. But if she goes out at two-thirty she'll never be back by four unless she went by Smith's lane of course she might do that ... Oh, dear, these stairs are a trial ... yes, she might do that, and then she'd only be an hour altogether.
"My partner, Professor Renmark, is also on a foraging expedition at your neighbors', the Bartletts. He is doubtless back in camp long ago, and will be expecting me." "No fear of that. Mrs. Bartlett would never let anyone go when there is a meal on the way." "I am afraid I shall be giving extra trouble by staying.
Quin's announcement that he was going to leave the Martels met with a storm of protest. He had the excellent excuse that when Cass married in June there would be no room for him, but it took all his diplomacy to effect the change without giving offense. Rose was tearful, and Cass furious, and a cloud of gloom enveloped the little brown house. With the Bartletts it was no easier.
He wanted to go to the Bartletts' at once, if only to stand guard at the gate against the danger that threatened Eleanor. "Aren't you coming home to supper?" asked Rose. "No," he said absently; "I don't want any supper." For an hour he paced the streets, trying to think things out. His burning desire was to go straight to Eleanor and lay the whole matter before her.
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