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Updated: June 10, 2025
She had an instinct which she resented, that her mother and this young man were on two parallels which could never meet. Her father was at home, seated in the south door with John Sargent and Nahum Beals and Joe Atkins, but she never thought of such a thing as her father's receiving a young man caller, though she would not have doubted so much his assimilating with Robert Lloyd.
They all stood staring when their employer passed. Only one man, Nahum Beals, looked fairly at Lloyd's face with a denouncing flash of eyes. To this man Lloyd, recognizing him and some of the others as his employés, bowed. Nahum Beals stood glaring at him in accusing silence, and his head was as immovable as if carved in stone.
A polite hint which I have taken!" "Did Mr. Beals do that?" "Beals went to Europe on his vacation when the coal cases first came up.... Besides, it would have made no difference. I think I see in it the fine hand of our good friend the Senator, smug-faced old fox!" Isabelle felt how much this action by the directors had stung him, how severely he was suffering.
All the time they sat there in the parlor, the murmur of conversation at the south door continued, and now and again over it swelled the fervid exhortations of Nahum Beals. Not a word could be distinguished, but the meaning was beyond doubt. That voice was full of denunciation, of frenzied appeal, of warning. "Who is it?" asked Lloyd, after an unusually loud burst. "Mr.
He had a handsome face, under the most complete control as to its muscles. When he laughed he gave the impression of the fixedness of merriment of a mask. He looked keenly at Nahum Beals with that immovable laugh on his face, and spoke with perfectly good-natured sarcasm.
He felt that he would almost have given her up, yielded up forever all his delight in her, to spare her; for the pain of knighthood, which is in every true lover, awoke in his heart. Nahum Beals was a laster in Lloyd's. Late in the autumn, when Ellen had been in the factory a little over a year, there began to be a subtle condition of discontent and insubordination.
To see Farrington Beals, gray-haired, thoughtful, almost the student, clothed in a sober dark suit, with a simple flower in the buttonhole, and delicate glasses on the bridge of his shapely nose, to see him modestly enter the general offices of the Atlantic and Pacific, any one would recognize an Industrial Flywheel of society.
Men gathered in muttering groups, of which Nahum Beals seemed always to be the nucleus. His high, rampant voice, restrained by no fear of consequences, always served as the key-note to the chorus of rebellion. Ellen paid little attention to it. She was earning good wages, and personally she had nothing of which to complain.
The same earth is beneath the high places of this life, and the lowly ones, and the law that governs 'em is the same, and the higher the place the longer the fall, and the longer the fall the sorer the hurt." Nahum Beals sprang to his feet with a strange abandon of self-consciousness and a fiery impetus for one of his New England blood.
Gradually this plan became popular, until Dwight Davis and Holcombe Ward surprised the tennis world with their new service, now the American twist, and used it as an opening gun in a net attack. This new system gave us besides Davis and Ward, the Wrenn brothers, George and Robert, Malcolm Whitman, M. G. Chace, and finally Beals C. Wright.
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