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Updated: June 27, 2025
Harwood did not know why not; but a man as rich as Edward Thatcher was entitled to his vagaries. Thatcher sank into Bassett's swivel chair and swung round once or twice as though testing it, meanwhile eyeing the map. Then he tipped himself back comfortably and dropped his hat into his lap.
He was furious with Reginald; but as Richard Bassett's remonstrance was intended to insult him, he wrote back as follows: "SIR I am deeply grieved that a son of mine should descend to look in at your windows, or to write anything whatever upon your door; and I will take care it shall never recur. "Yours obediently,
I feel it my duty to tell you this, a duty that no one else is courageous enough to perform " "Really, is this quite the place?" said Ronder, motioning with his hand towards Bassett's broad back, and the massive sterns of the two horses that rose and fell, like tubs on a rocking sea. But Brandon was past caution, past wisdom, past discipline.
Bassett's face was the color of a ripe tomato; he considered that he had been caught off his guard, and the hilarious shout of his erstwhile admiring audience caused chagrin, disgust and rage to sweep over him in swift succession. He was mad clear through, and he meant to teach this impudent young Teeny-bits a lesson.
The Bassett's Hollow delegate being again temporarily squelched, Moderator Knowles announced that nominations for the vacant place on the school committee were in order. There was a perceptible stir on the settees. This was what the meeting had been waiting for. "No sign of Cy or Heman yet," observed Mr. Cahoon, craning his neck in the direction of the door. "It's the queerest thing ever I see."
"Did you set him to trespass on Lady Bassett's lawn, and frighten her with a great dog in the present state of her health?" "Heaven forbid! This is the first I've heard of such a thing." "I am glad to hear you say that, Tom Wheeler. There, read that. Your client deserves to be flogged out of the county, sir." And he pulled a printed paper out of his pocket.
It was he who wrote sagely of foreign affairs, and once caused riotous delight in the reporters' room by an editorial on Turkish politics, containing the phrase, "We hope the Sultan " But not without special authority would such an article have been planted at the top of the editorial page, and beyond doubt these lines were the residuum of Bassett's long interview with Atwill.
The war, his work, his new place in the world, were all obliterated, drowned in the flood of memories revived by the shock of Bassett's revelations. Not that the breaking point had revealed itself as such at once. There was confusion first, then stupor and unconsciousness, and out of that, sharply and clearly, came memory.
A pity she can't come to our wedding! I'd sooner have seen her jolly little phiz than all Lady Bassett's wreathed smiles. She is sure to smile, you know. She always does when she sees me." He broke off with a hideous grimace. "Don't, Nick!" Muriel's voice trembled a little. "Why does she hate you so?" "Can't imagine," grinned Nick. "It's a way some people have.
Bassett's social acceptance was fairly complete, and he enjoyed meeting men of distinction. He was invariably welcomed to the feasts of reason we are always, in our capital, proffering to the great and good of all lands who pause for enlightenment and inspiration in our empurpled Athens.
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