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Updated: May 24, 2025
The old man has spent so much of his life in the smoky, noisy, buzzing school-room, that, when he has a holiday, he feels as if his place were lost, and himself a stranger in the world. But, forth he goes; and there stands our old chair, vacant and solitary, till good Master Cheever resumes his seat in it to-morrow morning.
"Society here is not what it used to be, and no doubt is only too glad to welcome presentable young men. I infer that you have not found it difficult." "Oh, I dance well, and my employer's son, Bob Cheever, took me in. But I'm only tolerated. I don't count." The old lady looked at him keenly. "You are ambitious?" He threw back his head. "Well, yes, I am, Mrs. Groome.
She had even achieved the height of denying herself luxuries one of the surest and least-trodden short-cuts to a man's heart a little secret path he hardly knows himself. The affair of Zada and Cheever was going the normal course. It had lost the charm of the wild and wicked through familiarity; and it was tending to domestication, as all such moods do if nothing interrupts them.
Dick found himself looking toward the door every time any one came in, and fervently hoping that Mr. Cheever might show up; for if he came it would doubtless signify that he had been successful in his hunt for the missing securities.
Kedzie had hers, and Charity hers, and the streetcar conductor Kedzie had rebuffed had his, and the Czar with his driven army had his, with more to come, and the Kaiser with his victorious army had his, with more to come. Even Peter Cheever had his in plenty, and of a peculiar secret sort. He had honestly planned to spend his evening with his wife. She seemed to be coming back into style with him.
Our main dependence for fuel was peat, or turf, as John Cheever called it, and to keep the rooms warm with this low-grade fuel, the fires had to be renewed every five or six hours. Another of John Cheever's self-imposed tasks was the care of cranks. Though somewhat peculiar himself he had no use for odd fish queer folk and the like and kept a sharp look-out for erratic strangers.
"Three of you were in my bedroom when I placed my rings on the pincushion. Each of you has passed through there a dozen times since. My sapphire ring is gone, and one of you has taken it." Mrs. Jackson gave a little scream, and reached heavily for a glass of water. Mrs. Cheever said something inarticulate in the outburst of masculine exclamation.
The younger men, with the exception of Bob Cheever, who respected his capacity for work, did not take to him; principally, no doubt, he reflected with some bitterness, because he was not "their sort."
On the way he worked up a splendid rage at her for giving such a woman as Zada grounds for gossip. He went straight to her room and walked in without knocking. Charity was dictating a letter to her secretary. Cheever surprised a phrase before she saw him. "'Thousands of blind soldiers and thousands of orphans hold out their hands to us. We must all do what we can Why, hello!
She could not endure the vision of her beloved receiving the hammering of the giant Dyckman. The telephone crackled under the load of her prayers, but Cheever had only one answer: "If you want me to run away from him or anybody, you don't get your wish, my darling." Finally she shrieked, "If you don't come home I'll come there and get you."
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