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"Yes. But I suppose, in time, the property will be worth it." "It's worth it now," said Mr. Day. "That is what is the matter with Strout. But Mrs. Carringford hasn't the money to spare. And at the present time nobody would put a second mortgage on the property." "I suppose the woman up in Michigan gets about twenty-five maybe fifty dollars out of it.
And it was a nice dinner that was served at the Day table that evening. Like the faded-out lady, Mrs. Carringford sat down to eat with them. But there was a different air about Mrs. Carringford. She was really a gentlewoman. Janice recovered her spirits and chattered like a magpie; and Mr.
On it was the look of Uncle Austen. She sprang up and, dragging forth her cloak and hat and furs, fled from the house. She must turn to some one, she must get away from the horror that was upon her. She would go to Aunt Harriet. It was a frosty day and a light fall of snow was on the pavements. She met Dr. Ransome and Emily Carringford strolling along as though it were summer.
I don't wish to encourage you with any false hopes nor to discourage you, either. I know nothing absolutely nothing regarding the legal status of this case. I have my suspicions that Abel Strout is behind it." "Oh, I am sure of that!" cried Mrs. Carringford. "Nevertheless, it may be that there is an unsatisfied claimant of the old Peter Warburton Blayne property. This Mrs.
Carringford to come every day to the house and keep it in that "neat as a new pin" condition in which the sweet-natured woman had left it when the extra cleaning was finished. "But my dear child, how will my own house get along without me? Amy cannot do it all, even if it is vacation-time." "But, dear Mrs. Carringford, just think!" begged Janice. "Kate and Sydney are both big enough to help Amy."
But your children are growing up and in time will be able to shoulder a part of the burden which you have assumed for their sake. Take courage, Mrs. Carringford. Everything will turn out right in the end, I am sure." It was plain that Mrs. Carringford was greatly comforted. When she left, Janice whispered to her father: "I'm awfully proud of you, Daddy. You do have such a way with you!"
They kissed each other on the stairway, and then Janice ran home, swinging her books. She thought the Carringford were very pleasant people. But there were several mysteries about them. First of all she wanted to know how Gummy came to have such an awful, awful name! Just as Janice was running in at the Love Street gate she was halted by Arlo Junior.
If there is anything we need you for, I will let you know. Good-night." The spinster banged out at the kitchen door without even coming into the front part of the house. "Not even to 'wash her hands of us' again!" giggled Janice, who ran out into the kitchen with a cry of joy. "Oh, Mrs. Carringford!" she said, throwing her arms about the woman's neck, "have you really come to stay?"
"I asked particularly, and the word came that a passenger named Randolph Carringford had sailed yesterday on the La Bretagne for New York." "Then that point seems settled," admitted Tom, though disliking to acknowledge the fact. "Still, something might happen to prevent his reaching New York City, or Virginia."
His appearance almost caused Carringford to "have a fit," as Jack afterwards described the effect of his coming on the scene. "What does this mystery mean?" he managed to gasp. "Only that I took a notion to come home and claim that legacy left by our eccentric Uncle Joshua," Jack told him, with a shrug of his shoulders, as though miracles were an every-day occurrence with him.
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