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Updated: June 27, 2025
At intervals, through the intensity of her silence, she heard Celia's fresh, sweet laughter, and Berkley's humorous and engaging voice. She glanced sideways at the back of his dark curly head where it bent beside Celia's over the album. What an insolently reckless head it was! She thought that she had never before seen the back of any man's head so significant of character or the want of it.
Stephen turned to Berkley: "A fellow can't see too much of this kind of thing and stand it very long. Those soldiers are no older than I am!" Berkley's ironical reply was drowned in a renewed uproar as the Massachusetts soldiers wheeled and began to file into the Astor House, and the New York militia of the escort swung past hurrahing for the first Northern troops to leave for the front.
"I want you to tell us again of those cousins of Vea Berkley's who came from India, and you haven't even mentioned their names." "All in good time, my dears," said Mrs. Lincoln, laughing; "that is only the beginning of the Bluff Crag stories. It would never do, you know, to have them all told at once.
In August, Berkley's ragged blue and yellow jacket had been gaily embellished with brand-new sergeant's chevrons; at the Stone Bridge where the infantry recoiled his troop passed over at a gallop. The War Department, much edified, looked at the cavalry and began to like it.
Thinking of it later, it recalled to her mind Celia's studied avoidance of any topic in which Colonel Arran figured. She did not make any mental connection between Celia's dislike for the man and Berkley's the coincidence merely made her doubly unhappy.
And he fished out a razor from the rear pocket of his striped drill overalls, rubbed the weapon of his race with a proud thumb, spread more soap over Berkley's upturned face, and fell deftly to work, wiping off the accumulated lather on the seat of his own trousers. Berkley remembered seeing him do it twice; then remembered no more.
"'Do you ever walk this way, uncle? I inquired, as we turned into another path that led to Mrs. Berkley's mansion. "'Sometimes; indeed, it is a favourite walk of mine, he replied. 'I like to come and sit just at that point where you stood. Your aunt used to be very fond of that walk also.
And there, while the tragic and comic masks grinned side by side, and the sky and earth seemed unsteadily grinning above and under her feet, Ailsa Paige suffered the mockery of the presentation; felt the terrible irony of it piercing her; felt body and senses swaying there in the candle-light; heard Letty's happy voice and Berkley's undisturbed replies; found courage to speak, to take her leave; made her way back through a dreadful thickening darkness to her room, to her bed, and lay there silent, because she could not weep.
"I have long known that you loved each other," he whispered. "It is a happiness that God sends me as well as you. If it be His will that I do not recover, this makes it easy for me. If He wills it that I live, then, in His infinite mercy, He also gives me the reason for living." Icy cold, Ailsa's hand lay there, limply touching Berkley's; the sick man's eyes were upon them. "Philip!" "Sir?"
Berkley's upper lip again twitched unpleasantly; but, when at length he spoke, he spoke more calmly than before and his mobile features were in pallid repose. "One of your brokers Cone stopped me. I was too confused to understand what he wanted of me. I went with him to your attorneys " Like lightning the snarl twitched his mouth again; he made as though to rise, and controlled himself in the act.
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