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Updated: May 8, 2025
"I tell you, Cicily," he continued, in the tone of one arguing with labored patience to convince a child of some truism, "that business is too big, too serious, too strong for a woman like you, my dear." "Yes, that's just the fear that grips my heart sometimes, Charles," the wife admitted.
"My dear," Hamilton remarked dryly, as his wife paused, "you have omitted one salient qualification of the modern woman: she is, preëminently an orator. Why, you, yourself, are a feminine Demosthenes nothing less." But he abandoned, his tone of raillery, as he continued: "And so, what you've been doing that's your idea of partnership, is it?" "Yes," Cicily declared, spiritedly.
"The trust will take care of them," Hamilton declared mechanically, without lifting his face from his hands. "You know how the trust will take care of them," Cicily retorted, with a touch of bitterness. "It will pay them a starvation wage no more!" "But you're jealous of business!" Hamilton objected, raising his head to gaze curiously at this most paradoxical person.
The enraged capitalist flushed with new annoyance, for he prided himself greatly on the elegance of his manners, and it horrified him that he should have so far forgotten himself as to swear in the presence of a lady. "But they've no place in business anyhow!" he thought to himself consolingly. "Oh, don't mention it!" Cicily answered, with an air of unconcern.
"But," Cicily objected, "there are no minutes." Mrs. Carrington did not trouble to rise for her retort: "I don't see what that has to do with the question at issue." "Oh, very well, then," Cicily rejoined, with one of those flashes of inspiration that were of such service to her as a presiding officer, "you read them yourself, Mrs. Carrington." At this happy suggestion, Mrs.
His troubles will kill him off early, or I lose my guess.... So, that's your excuse for ruining him, is it?" "I'd help him, if he'd let me," Cicily answered, sadly, forgetful of her indignation against the sex. "You help him!" Delancy exclaimed, mockingly. "Why, you brought on the strike."
But Cicily only laughed under the reproof, bestowed a hasty kiss on her aunt's cheek, and swept buoyantly from the room. When Mrs. McMahon, Mrs. Schmidt and Miss Ferguson were ushered into the drawing-room of the Hamilton house, Cicily was there, ready to welcome her guests warmly. "And how is Madam President of our club?" she said with a delightful assumption of deference to Mrs.
"But " Cicily would have protested, only to be interrupted by the indignant old gentleman, who shook an accusing forefinger at her. "You can't tell me! Yes, you did, with your impertinent interference. Huh! When women get to fooling with business, we shall all go to the dogs.
Cicily herself disposed of the matter with a blithesome nonchalance that was beautiful to behold. "Oh, don't bother," was her way of cutting the Gordian knot. "I'll make my husband's stenographer do the work." "I move that we adjourn," the militant suffragette repeated in a most businesslike manner. Mrs. Carrington was determined that her rival should not outdistance her at the finish.
Hamilton said reverently, and gathered her into his arms. Afterward, the twain lovers talked of many things, as lovers will, of things grave and gay, of things silly and profound. They talked of business affairs, into which Cicily might on occasion flash the light of intuition to clear the way for grosser reason.
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