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Updated: June 14, 2025
Please don't keep me now." Supper that evening was a silent meal. The Elder did not speak once; the two young people were absorbed in their own reflections, and Mrs. Conklin's efforts to make talk were effectual only when she turned to Jake. Mrs. Conklin, indeed, was seldom successful in anything she attempted.
The ladies were very jolly, teasing one another, telling bits of fun, comparing work, and exchanging cooking recipes. Miss Gitty asked Margaret about her mother's family, the Vermilyeas. A Miss Vermilye, sixty or seventy years ago, had married a Conklin and come over to Closter.
"No," replied Morris, "but I'm hyar fer him, I guess an' about two hundred more ef I'm not enough," he added drily, waving his hand towards the woods. With a half-turn in his saddle and a glance at the line of trees on his flank, General Custer took in the situation. Clearly there was nothing to do but to retreat, with some show of dignity. "Where shall I find Mr. Conklin? I wish to speak to him."
We've got to consider the honor of Yale above everything else." Andy and Dunk nodded. Mortimer sat with his face buried in his hands. "Now then," went on Conklin, "for the honor of Yale, and not to save the reputation of anybody, we must hush up this scandal. It must go no farther than this room. Gaffington, are you willing to leave Yale?"
Their hatred was as expensive as was that of Blaine and Conklin in after years. Every age must have a political scapegoat, one upon whose head is placed symbolically the sins of the period, and after he is sent into the wilderness of obscurity it becomes a social and political crime to befriend him. There have been several such in our country's history, and there will be others.
Conklin shot a quick glance at the other. "Oh, so you think you'll have to report it, eh?" "Naturally!" "Hm. Well, all right. Only it somehow seems to me that as they were off of school property and were settling an affair in a perfectly regular way it might be overlooked without any harm, Horace. You know best, of course. That's just my notion."
Dreer stood not on the order of his going, but was over the wall almost before the instructor had finished speaking. Penny and Clint followed more leisurely, leaving Mr. Daley and Mr. Conklin in possession of the field of battle. They too, however, presently continued their interrupted walk. "What do you make of it, Jim?" asked Mr. Daley. Mr. Conklin smiled and shook his head.
A week or ten days later, Bancroft came downstairs one morning early and found the ground covered with hoar-frost, though the sun had already warmed the air. Elder Conklin, in his shirt-sleeves, was cleaning his boots by the wood pile. When he had finished with the brush, but not a moment sooner, he put it down near his boarder.
At last the letter was finished and inclosed with a brief note to the general. The pen dropped from North's fingers and he stood erect, he was aware that men were still speaking below his window, then he heard footfalls in the corridor, and turned toward the door. It was the sheriff and his deputy. Conklin seemed on the verge of collapse, and Brockett's face was drawn and ghastly.
Worthington called the Worthington mansion, and she turned up her nose at those who worshipped under the towers, turrets and minarets of the Conklin mosque, and played the hose of her ridicule on their outer wall that she might have it spotless for a target when she got ready to raze it with her big gun. The week that Ellen Vail Montgomery came to town was a busy one for Miss Larrabee.
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