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Updated: May 1, 2025
The one fact is that my sister's life shall not be ruined by you!" Cairy, dropping back at once to his tone of worldly convention, replied calmly: "That I think we shall have to let the lady decide for herself, whether I shall ruin her life or not. And I beg to point out that this topic is of your own choosing. I regard it as an impertinence. Let us drop it.
Meantime she went out more or less by herself, as the wives of busy men have to do. "It is so much better not to bring a yawning husband home at midnight," she laughed to Cairy on one of these occasions when she had given him a seat down town in her cab. "By the way, you haven't spoken of Conny lately, don't you see her any more?"
The way to Isabelle's heart was through pity, the desire to give, as with many women. Cairy felt it instinctively, and followed the path. Few men can blaze their way to glory, but all can offer the opportunity to a woman of splendid sacrifice in love! "You know I care!" she had murmured. "But, oh, Tom " That "but" and the sigh covered much, John, the little girl, the world as it is.
As he stood on the deck of the bobbing tug waving to his wife, he was a symbol of the American husband, Cairy jokingly pointed out. "There's John holding out the welcoming arms to roving wife."
It flattered him also to serve as intellectual and aesthetic mentor to an attractive, untrained woman, who frankly liked him and bowed to his opinion. It was Cairy, through Isabelle, much more than Lane, who decided on the house in that up-town cross street, on the "right" side of the Park, which the Lanes finally bought.
"She has one of the ablest business heads that I know of," the Senator said emphatically, nodding his own head. "She should have been a man." "One would miss a good deal if she were a man," suggested Cairy. "Her beauty, yes, very striking. But she has the brain of a man."
Then she telephoned the office of The People's, but Cairy was not there, and he had not returned when later in the afternoon she telephoned again. "Well," she mused, a troubled expression on her face, "perhaps it is just as well, Tom might not be easy to manage. He's more exacting than Percy about some things."
Cairy when he calls and tell him not to wait," she said to the maid who opened the door for her. Conny did not believe in "writing foolish things to men," and her letter of farewell had the brevity of telegraphic despatch. Nevertheless she sank into the corner of the cab wearily and closed her eyes on the brilliant street, which usually amused her as it would divert a child.
A large motor waited outside the pier to take the party to the hotel. "Aren't you coming, Tom?" Isabella asked, as Cairy made for a cab with his luggage. "I will meet you at the station to-morrow," Cairy called back. "Business!" "Well, how is everything?" she asked her husband. "Glad to see me back?" "Of course."
At the stable Marian's new pony that Cairy had selected was exhibited. Lane drove up with a friend he had brought from the city for the week end, and the party played with the pony and laughed at his tricks, which Cairy showed off. "He looks like a cross between an Angora cat and a Newfoundland dog," Cairy remarked, leaning down to feel of his legs.
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