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Updated: May 22, 2025
Do you know that the year before we had spent it together, too? September 28th. True, that year it was at Bertie Cox's funeral, but we had walked together, and I was happy in being near you. "For, you see, it was from something more than the Hudson River that you had brought me out. You had rescued me from the stupid gayety of my first winter from the flats of fashionable life.
"Of course, of course, I know. I see him yesterday morning, pale like and weak, but smiling and lookin' happy enough too, I tell ye." "Ah, yes" said Mr. Joseph, again lying down and pressing the flowers to his hot lips. "I these flowers are for him and her." "Her!" said the farmer. "Milly, you know. Ah perhaps you haven't heard. My brother is going to marry Milly, Mrs. Cox's niece, you know."
After marchin a little through the plash and mud, "Has anybody seen Coxy's fly?" cries I, with the most innocent haxent in the world. "Cox's fly!" hollows out one chap. "Is it the vaggin you want?" says another. "I see the blackin wan pass," giggles out another gentlmn; and there was such a hinterchange of compliments as you never heerd.
"Ah!" he broke out again, as we jogged on between hedgerows: "and that field now backed by the downs with the rain-cloud brooding over it, that's all David Cox every bit of it!" "That field belongs to Farmer Larkin," I explained politely, for of course he could not be expected to know. "I'll take you over to Farmer Cox's to-morrow, if he's a friend of yours; but there's nothing to see there."
Rivers jumped up and got the dog to follow him until he reached a field some distance from the house, when, with a well-directed throw he stunned him with a large stone, and soon stamped all life out of him. He then took the "melancholy remains," placed them at Barclay's door, and returned to Cox's, where he found all quiet. He returned to his old position and remained until day began to dawn.
Then he drove with the ladies to Cox's, and saw them settled there. He promised to return at once to dine, and to tell them what he had discovered in his absence. "You've got to help me in this, Miss Morris," he said, nervously. "I am beginning to feel that I am not worthy of her."
If we strike a line to the N.W. from Sydney to Wellington Valley, we shall find that little change takes place in the geological features of the country. The sand-stone of which the first of the barrier ranges is composed, terminates a little beyond Mount York, and at Cox's River is succeeded by grey granite.
How could she know that Lackaday was here? I asked, in order to get to the bottom of this complicated emotional condition: "But didn't you ever think of writing oh, as a friend of course to Lackaday, care of War Office, Cox's...?" She retorted: "I'm not a sloppy school-girl, my friend." "Quite so," said I. I paused, while the waiter brought tea. "And now that there's no longer any mystery?"
Maroney had spent some time with Madam Imbert, and then had gone for a drive with De Forest. They went to Manayunk, had a fish dinner washed down with a bottle of champagne, and drove back as happy and free from care as two children. Mrs. Maroney left the buggy at Cox's at half-past four, and found Madam Imbert waiting for her. The Madam noticed that she was a little exhilarated.
"No, never in my life; but they are men, and you are men, and may be Hessians, for anything I know. But I will go with you into Colonel Cox's house, though indeed it was my son at the mill; he is but a boy, and meant no harm; he wanted to see the troops."
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