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Updated: June 3, 2025
There would be no Corklesville wedding if she could help it, with gaping loungers at the church door; nor would there be any Maryland wedding with a ten-mile ride over rough roads to a draughty country-house, where your back would freeze while your cheeks burned up; nor yet again any city wedding, with an awning over the sidewalk, a red carpet and squad of police, with Tom, Dick, and Harry inside the church, and Harry, Dick and Tom squeezed into an oak-panelled dining-room at high noon with every gas-jet blazing.
They had discussed, I say, all these things and many more, in sentences, the Scribe devoutly hopes, much shorter than the one he has just written when in a casual oh, so casual a way merely as a matter of form Ruth asked him if he really must go back to Corklesville in the morning.
This is why the sign "To Let," on one of the new houses built by the Elm Crest Land and Improvement Company old Tom Corkle who owned the market garden farms that gave the village of Corklesville its name, would have laughed himself sore had he been alive was ripped off and various teams loaded with all sorts of furniture, some very expensive and showy and some quite the contrary especially that belonging to the servants' rooms were backed up to the newly finished porch with its second coat of paint still wet, and their contents duly distributed upstairs and downstairs and in my lady Corinne's chamber.
"That was very kind of you, sir," rejoined Jack, without a trace of either gratitude or surprise. "Well, I'm glad you think so. Some of our directors also own a block of that new road MacFarlane is finishing. They wouldn't hire anybody else after they had gone up to Corklesville and had seen how he did his work, so I had the secretary of the company write MacFarlane, and that's how it came about."
She had dressed herself, too, in her most becoming breakfast gown one she had worn when Jack first arrived at Corklesville, and which he said reminded him of a picture he had seen as a boy. There were pink rosebuds woven in its soft texture, and the wide peach-blossom ribbon that bound her dainty waist contrasted so delightfully, as he had timidly hinted, with the tones of her hair and cheeks.
"Tell her you will be very lonely if she doesn't go, and that she is the one and only thing in Corklesville that interests you outside of your work and be sure you mention the dear girl first and the work last and that you won't have another happy hour if she leaves you in the " "Oh! Uncle Peter!" "And why not? It's a fact, isn't it? You were honest about Isaac; why not be honest with Ruth?"
It was not until he was nearing Corklesville that the sense of the money really came to him. He knew what it would mean to Ruth and what her eyes would hold of gladness and relief. Suddenly there sprang to his lips an unbidden laugh, a spontaneous overflow from the joy of his heart; the first he had uttered for days. Ruth should know first.
This ghost of damages having been laid it was buried the week after Jack had called on his uncle the Chief, the First Assistant, and Bangs, the head foreman, disappeared from Corklesville and reappeared at Morfordsburg.
No there never had been such a wedding! It was at this time that the new church to be built at Corklesville needed an architect a fact which Jack communicated to Garry.
As for Miss Felicia, although she had blown hot and blown cold on Ruth's heart, until that delicate instrument stood at zero one day and at fever heat the next, she had, on the whole, kept up an equable temperature, and meant to do so until she shook the dust of Corklesville from her dainty feet and went back to the clean, moist bricks of her garden. And as for Peter!
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