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From this point the track sweeps downward to Bartons Crossing, Helmdale, and the purely agricultural county of Merton. It was a single-track railroad; but at every siding and they were numerous long lines of trucks piled with coal and iron ore told of the hidden wealth which had brought a rude population and a bustling life to this most desolate corner of the United States of America.
The Bartons were not invited to the next private dance, which was annoying, and after long conjecturing as to the enemy that had served them this trick, they resigned themselves to the inevitable, and began to look forward to the State ball given on the following Monday. As they mounted the stairway Mrs.
Hugh McGuire, of Winchester, brother of Dr. Hunter McGuire, medical director of Jackson's corps, whose gallantry won for him a captaincy in cavalry and lost him his life on the retreat to Appomattox. Boyd Faulkner, of Martinsburg, son of Hon. Charles J. Faulkner. Two Bartons from Winchester. Two Maurys and three Minors from Charlottesville.
My compliments to Miss Effingham, and say I shall be most happy to be her escort on the occasion," and hurriedly dressing, was soon by her side, laughing and chatting merrily as they cantered over the green turf on their way to the Bartons.
He was so swept away with delight that for a while he was tempted to forget what sort of people they were. But it came back to him suddenly, when they had returned to Everley's office. He sat gazing at the young lawyer with such a worried expression on his face that the other asked, "What's the matter?" Tell me, Mr. Everley," said the boy, "how can the Bartons believe in free love?"
Do not go to Matton or to the Bartons or to Eastnor without giving my love. How often my thoughts are at home! I cannot help calling it so still in my thoughts. I may like other places, but no other place can ever appear to me to deserve that name. Dearest Mrs. Martin's affectionate E.B. BARRETT. To Mrs. Martin Sidmouth: December 14, 1832. My dearest Mrs.
But Bessie cut me short in her imperious way: "But we are not lovers this morning: at least," with a half-relenting look at my rueful face, "we are very good friends, and I choose to sit here to show people that we are." "What do you care for people the Bartons or the Meyricks?" as I noticed a familiar family carriage toiling up the hill, followed by a lighter phaeton.
After they had conversed a few moments and had inquired after Joe and Sam, Mrs. Jones conducted them to two chambers, insisting that they must be her guests while in the city. The Doctor and other members of the party were delighted to met the Bartons. Dr. Jones was well pleased with the progress that Mrs. Barton had made.
But Bessie cut me short in her imperious way: "But we are not lovers this morning: at least," with a half-relenting look at my rueful face, "we are very good friends, and I choose to sit here to show people that we are." "What do you care for people the Bartons or the Meyricks?" as I noticed a familiar family carriage toiling up the hill, followed by a lighter phaeton.
The evening was spent in packing; and next morning at dawn, looking tired, their eyes still heavy with sleep, the Bartons breakfasted for the last time in Mount Street. At the Broadstone they met Lord Dungory. Then, their feet and knees cosily wrapped up in furs, with copies of the Freeman's Journal lying on the top, they deplored the ineffectiveness of Mr. Forster's Coercion Act.
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