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I was born in Carbondale, Illinois, but that doesn't matter I'm an English countess, doing barefoot dancing to work off the mortgage on the ancestral castle, and they eat me. Take it from me, Claire, I'm a riot. Well, that's that. What I am really writing about is to tell you that you have got to come over here. I've taken a house at Brookport, on Long Island, for the summer.
Salvatore vanished in search of the potentate named, and Archie returned to the lobby to bask in the unwonted sunshine. "Well, well, well, what!" he said. "I thought you were at Brookport." "I came up this morning to meet a friend of mine," replied Mr. Brewster genially. "Professor Binstead." "Don't think I know him." "Very interesting man," said Mr.
I remember her as a child giving me away hopelessly on one occasion after we had been at the jam-cupboard. She did not mean any harm, but she was constitutionally incapable of a tactful negative at the right time." Uncle Chris brooded for a moment on the past. "Oh, well, it's a very fine trait, no doubt, though inconvenient. I don't blame you for leaving Brookport if you weren't happy there.
Later on, no doubt, when my affairs are more settled . . ." "Oh, I understand. I'm resigned. But, oh dear! it's going to be very dull down at Brookport." "Nonsense, nonsense! It's a delightful spot." "Have you been there?" "No! But of course everybody knows Brookport! Healthy, invigorating . . . Sure to be! The very name . . . You'll be as happy as the days are long!"
I was alone in New York with the remains of that twenty dollars you sent me and no more in sight." "But why didn't you stay down at Brookport with your Uncle Elmer?" "Have you ever seen my Uncle Elmer?" "No. Curiously enough, I never have." "If you had, you wouldn't ask. Brookport! Ugh! I left when they tried to get me to understudy the hired man, who had resigned." "What!"
'Well' with misgivings 'Brookport, Long Island. 'Thanks. 'Bill, are you really going to make a fool of yourself? 'Not a bit of it, old chap. I'm just going to er 'To nose round? 'To nose round, said Bill. Jerry Nichols accompanied his friend to the door, and once more peace reigned in the offices of Nichols, Nichols, Nichols, and Nichols.
It was a situation which she had not foreseen when she set out to walk to Brookport station. She pondered over the mystery of Uncle Chris' disappearance, and found no solution. The thing was inexplicable. She was as sure of the address he had given in his letter as she was of anything in the world. Yet at that address nothing had been heard of him. His name was not even known.
Life at Brookport had so accustomed him to being plain Bill Chalmers that it had absolutely slipped his mind that he was really Lord Dawlish, the one man in the world whom Elizabeth looked on as an enemy. What on earth was he to do about that? Tell her? But if he told her, wouldn't she chuck him on the spot? This was awful. The dreamy sense of well-being left him.
The reflection brought with it a certain discomfort. The bag that dangled from her wrist contained all the money she had in the world, the very broken remains of the twenty dollars which Uncle Chris had sent her at Brookport. She had nowhere to go, nowhere to sleep, and no immediately obvious means of adding to her capital.
"And how long the days will be!" "Come, come! You mustn't look on the dark side!" "Is there another?" Jill laughed. "You are an old hum-bug, Uncle Chris. You know perfectly well what you're condemning me to! I expect Brookport will be like a sort of Southend in winter. Oh, well, I'll be brave. But do hurry and make a fortune, because I want to come to New York."
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