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Updated: May 19, 2025
Good-morning!" and so saying, he walked off in the direction of Abingdon road, while Neil rather unwillingly bought his ticket and went through the narrow way and down the stairs to wait for the incoming train. Mrs. Buncher had made an effort to brighten up her dingy parlor since her new lodgers took possession of it.
That, by a little, drew the long-bow too hard. Cally saw that the small three-years' buncher, through politeness or otherwise, was speaking without reference to the truth. And hard upon that she had another thought, striking down the impulse to cross-examine further. What an undignified, what a cowardly way, to try to find things out!
Buncher was amazed to see a smart carriage, with handsome horses and servants in livery, drive up before her door and still more amazed to see her lodgers take their seats in it, Bessie and her father, side by side, and Jack Trevellian opposite them, with his back to the driver. It was a glorious June afternoon, and the park was, if possible, gayer and more crowed than on the previous day.
As soon as dinner was over he started for Abingdon road, and was told by Mrs. Buncher, who received him with a slight increase of dignity in her manner, as became one before whose door carriages and servants in livery had stood twice in one day, that Mr. McPherson and the young lady had gone to see "Pinafore" with the gentleman who took them to drive. "The deuce they have!"
And in one of the pigeonholes there lay, sure enough, a note; not, indeed, from a mustached count with a neyeglass, but from one who perhaps seemed not less of the purple to the fevered little buncher. This note was written in the best jokey vein throughout, beginning, "Miss Corinne Garland, City Dear Madam," and signed, "Your most obliged and obedient servant, Writing-Desk."...
I know enough anyway to know when Pa ain't going to be no mark for a buncher questions, but it's got me going. There's Miss Whimple loved a fellow when she's young, and he gets carved up by some black fellows in a desert around Egypt somewhere " "The Soudan." "That's the name; who told you?" "My father's brother is a soldier, and he fought the Dervishes." "That's the bunch.
"Yes, a buncher there, as they're called," he was quaintly explaining "quite the best one in the shop, I'm told, though she's only eighteen years old. She has a record of 6,500 cheroots in one day " "But she has been taken sick at it, you say?" "Undoubtedly she has a temperature to-night," said he, in an intent sort of way, desirous of giving his information accurately.
Cally stifled a little cry. Hugo, obvious for once, said, "Why, she's fainted!" in an incredulous voice. Considerably better in action were the experienced Works people. MacQueen sprang for a water-bucket with a celerity which strongly suggested practice. A stout, unstayed buncher filled a long-felt want by flinging open a window.
And one sultry night in mid-July, the little buncher seemed able to talk of nothing but the astonishing suit Jem Noonan had just obtained at the One-Price Outfitting Company for the somewhat laughable sum of $7.90.
But was it not the irony of life, was it not life itself, that the little buncher, who only the other day would have thrilled to her marrow at the mere thought of all these things, should have won her lady's glories only when she was too strangely listless to care for them?... Mrs.
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