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Updated: June 7, 2025
"So I give you," cried Tappingham, gallantly, "the health of Miss Betty Carewe, the loveliest rose of our bouquet! May she remember us when we come home!" They rose and drank it with a shout.
As soon as it was possible, she made her escape with Miss Betty, and they drove away in the twilight to pay visits of duty, leaving Mr. Carewe frowning at his coffee on the veranda.
At the entrance to the guardroom, which occupied the left wing of the stables, stood a Lieutenant of the hussars. "This is Monsieur Carewe," said the baron, "who will occupy a corner in the guardroom." "Ah! Monsieur Carewe," waving his hand cavalierly; "happy to see you again." Maurice was growing weary of his name. "Enter," said the baron, opening the door.
When any creature got sick or unfortunate she seemed to take it right into her heart. So you may say Lige Baxter's failure was a success after all." Thyra Carewe was waiting for Chester to come home. She sat by the west window of the kitchen, looking out into the gathering of the shadows with the expectant immovability that characterized her. She never twitched or fidgeted.
Tanberry that she now derived all information concerning Mr. Carewe, as he had not directly addressed her since the afternoon when he discovered her reading the Journal's extra. "No, we are to meet him' there. He seems rather pleasanter than usual this evening," remarked Mrs. Tanberry, hopefully, as she retired.
It's what they meant by the pot of gold where the rainbow ends only, it may be there, after all!" They stopped unconsciously, and remained standing at the lower end of the Carewe hedge. The western glow had faded, and she was gazing at him through the darkness, leaning forward, never dreaming that her tight grasp had broken the sticks of the little pink fan. "Yes," she whispered, eagerly.
They looked at each other, each man mutely imploring his neighbor to speak. "You need not fear to tell me," said Thyra calmly. "I know what you have come to say. My son is drowned." "We don't know THAT, Mrs. Carewe," said Abel Blair quickly. "We haven't got the worst to tell you there's hope yet.
"I thank you," retorted her host. "Perhaps if you treated your daughter even a decent Indian's kind of politeness, you'd enjoy better health." "Ah! And in what failure to perform my duty toward her have I incurred your displeasure?" "Where is she now?" exclaimed the other excitably. "Where is she now?" "I cannot say." "Yes, you can, Robert Carewe!" Mrs. Tanberry retorted, with a wrathful gesture.
Fanchon was the only one who knew, and as she whirled by with Will Cummings, she raised her absent glance long enough to give Tom an affectionate and warning shake of the head. Tom did not see this; Miss Carewe did. Alas! She smiled upon him instantly and looked deep into his eyes. It was the third time. She was not afraid of this man-flirt; he was to be settled with once and forever.
At the corner of the warehouse, Miss Carewe detached her hand from Crailey's, yet still followed him as he made a quick detour round the next building. A minute or two later they found themselves, undetected, upon Main Street in the rear of the crowd. There Crailey paused. "Forgive me," he said, breathlessly, "for taking your hand. I thought you would like to get away."
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