Why, there was times when I clean forgot he was President of the United States. The boys won't believe it when we git back at Coniston." And Ephraim, full of his subject, began to recount from the beginning the marvellous affair, occasionally appealing to Cynthia for confirmation.
"I shouldn't call living here having everything I wanted," declared Miss Hopkins, with a contemptuous glance at the tannery house. "I suppose you wouldn't," said Cynthia. Miss Hopkins was nettled. She was out of humor that day, besides she shared some of her father's political ambition. If he went to Washington, she went too. "Didn't you know Jethro Bass was rich?" she demanded, imprudently.
Cynthia was fast making a name for herself. In his adoring eyes she was perfect, and in his blissful heart he was confident that one day all London would be talking about her. Her photographs would be In every shop window, and people would stand all day outside the pit and gallery to cheer her on first nights.
I'm going to be in Washington a day or two will you go walking with me to-morrow morning, Miss Wetherell?" "She's going walking with me," said Bob, not in the best of tempers. "Then I'll go along," said Mr. Duncan, promptly. By this time Cynthia got up and was holding out her hand to Bob Worthington. "I'm not going walking with either of you," she said "I have another engagement.
Had a shack when I saw him. Callate he wouldn't have lived two months if the war hadn't bust up and I hadn't come along." "Oh, Cousin Eph!" exclaimed Cynthia. The old soldier turned and saw that there were tears in her eyes. But, stranger than that, Cynthia saw that there were tears in his own.
Susan was human, and here was the opportunity for a little revenge. In justice to her, she meant the revenge to be very slight. "Well, Cynthia, you should have come to the concert," she said; "it was fine, wasn't it, Jane? Is this Mr. Worthington? How do you do. I'm Miss Susan Merrill, and this is Miss Jane Merrill." Susan only intended to stay a minute, but how was Bob to know that?
"I do hope you'll find something there that's really valuable," she added, "for Miss Cynthia was so pleased at the idea of giving you something you would like. She said you boys had always been so nice to her." Ruth's face and manner were the perfection of innocence, but for some reason there was a tinge of discomfort in the manner of the boys gathered around the table.
One day when she had got up, but had not yet ventured out of doors, her father came into her room with a bunch of black grapes which he had brought for her to eat. "How good you are, father!" Cynthia said gratefully. She took one to please him but she did not seem inclined to eat. She was sitting in a wooden chair by the window, looking pale and listless.
He'll sympathize, I'll bet anything." Whether Bob were really capable of doing this, Cynthia could not tell. She believed he was. Perhaps she really did not intend to go upstairs just then. To his intense relief she seated herself on a straight-backed chair near the door, although she had the air of being about to get up again at any minute.
Cynthia is much more sensible, but Lucius is a nuisance, and Charmides, by the way, has become absurdly jealous of him. They really are very silly; but I have a pleasant plot, which I will unfold to you." As we went down the interminable stairs, I said to Amroth, "There is a question I want to ask you.