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Updated: May 17, 2025


Carstyle seized a moment of tete-a-tete to confide in him that the dear child hated the idea of leaving, and was going only because her friend Mrs. Higby would not let her off. Of course, if it had not been for Mr. Carstyle's peculiarities they would have had their own seaside home at Newport, probably: Mrs.

Carstyle's annual demand to have her position understood came in as punctually as the taxes and the water- rates.

Miss Carstyle, the young man decided, was the kind of girl whose surroundings rub off on her; or was it rather that Mrs. Carstyle's idiosyncrasies were of a nature to color every one within reach? Vibart, looking across the table as this consolatory alternative occurred to him, was sure that they had not colored Mr. Carstyle; but that, perhaps, was only because they had bleached him instead. Mr.

He sold his country-place and his wife's carriage, and they moved to the little house they live in now. Mr. Carstyle's income is probably not as large as his wife would like to have it thought, and though I'm told he puts aside, a good part of it every year to pay off his brother's obligations, I fancy the debt won't be discharged for some time to come.

Vibart had an idea that Mr. Carstyle, while ostensibly reading the paper, had kept count of the number of times that his daughter had led her companion up and down between the syringa-bushes; and for some undefinable reason he resented Mr. Carstyle's unperturbed observation more than his wife's zealous self-effacement.

Carstyle's only brother died, and it turned out that he had made away with a lot of trust-property. It was a horrid business: over three hundred thousand dollars were gone, and of course most of it had belonged to widows and orphans. As soon as the facts were made known, Andrew Carstyle announced that he would pay back what his brother had stolen.

If anybody else had been walking along this road, those horses would have been running away. And there was a girl in the buggy, too a mere child!" Mr. Carstyle's head sank again. "You're wondering what this means," he began after another pause. "I was a little confused for a moment must have seemed incoherent." His voice cleared and he made an effort to straighten himself.

That he should have paid off his brother's debt at one stroke was to the young man a conceivable feat; but that he should go on methodically and uninterruptedly accumulating the needed amount, under the perpetual accusation of Irene's inadequate frocks and Mrs. Carstyle's apologies for the mutton, seemed to Vibart proof of unexampled heroism. Mr.

Carstyle jump into the middle of the road, in front of the buggy. He stood there immovable, his arms extended, his legs apart, in an attitude of indomitable resistance. Almost at the same moment Vibart realized that the man in the buggy had his horses in hand. "They're not running!" Vibart shouted, springing into the road and catching Mr. Carstyle's alpaca sleeve.

She was quite aware of the value of her appearance as guaranteeing Irene's development into a fine woman. "But perhaps," she continued, taking up the thread of her explanation, "you have heard of Mr. Carstyle's extraordinary hallucination. Mr. Carstyle knows that I call it so as I tell him, it is the most charitable view to take."

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