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There was a taxicab stand just around the corner, and the three were quickly on their way to the machine shop, while Ruth and Alice took turns giving more details of the scene in the restaurant. "Here we are!" announced Russ, a little later, as the cab drew up, with a screeching of brakes, in front of a rather dingy building. "I only hope we're in time, and that Burton hasn't gone yet."
Belding vaguely realized some blunder he had made. Nell's white, appealing face gave him a pang. What had he done? Surely this family of Dick's ought to know his relation to Nell. There was a silence that positively made Belding nervous. Then Elsie Gale stepped close to Nell. "Miss Burton, are you really Richard's betrothed?" Nell's tremulous lips framed an affirmative, but never uttered it.
Mrs. Burton was certainly waiting for her husband. She was sitting back among the cushions of her Sixty horse-power Daimler, wrapped in a motoring coat of the latest fashion, her somewhat brilliant coloring only partially obscured by the silver-gray veil which drooped from her motor bonnet. Burton took his place beside her almost in silence, and they glided off. She looked at him curiously.
Often, thereafter, on a clear night when the thermometer stood twenty below zero, Burton and I would trot away toward the Grove to join in some meeting or to coast with the boys on the banks of the creek. I feel again the iron clutch of my frozen boots. The tippet around my neck is solid ice before my lips. My ears sting.
The general sat back in his arm-chair with his fan and asked everybody's advice, and no one appeared to have any advice to give. "The fact is this, gentlemen," he said at last, "we've got to do something, and the question is, what to do. Burton," said he to his assistant adjutant-general, "show them the plan that we've worked out."
"I have not changed my mind," she replied, with such sad, stern emphasis that they all involuntarily looked at her for a moment. Poor Mrs. Mayhew was so quenched and depressed that she did not venture to speak again. Only Miss Burton was able to maintain her self-possession and tact, and she was intently but unobtrusively studying Miss Mayhew.
"But I would do it to save your life, friend Joseph, or that of your sweet young wife there or that of the baby which she holds upon her knee." "Or that of Mistress Dulcibel Burton!" added sweet Mistress Putnam kindly. "Yes, or that of Dulcibel Burton." "You know, my dear friends, the plan I have in view may fail.
Early in June, 1872, Burton sailed for Iceland at the request of a certain capitalist, who wished to obtain reports of some sulphur mines there, and who promised him a liberal remuneration, which eventually he did not pay.
This is, of course, a folktale, explaining the pebble-hills and illustrating the belief in Frode's power; but armies were mustered by such expedients of old. Burton tells of an African army each man of whom presented an egg, as a token of his presence and a means of taking the number of the host. We hear of men marching in light order without even scabbards, and getting over the ice in socks.
Daisy Burton only said one word but that word was "Brute!" and her father saw that there was the light of battle in her eyes. "My dear," he said gently, "you forget that it was an Englishman who wrote 'The Taming of the Shrew." "And yet American girls of a sort are quite eager to marry Englishmen!" The Senator quickly pursued his advantage.
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