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Updated: September 17, 2025
And Stephen answered that he had never taken his Sabbatical year, and that some one could be found to do his work, though it might mean forfeiting half his salary. Here they were joined by Polly and Ben, and as Deena made no reference to the subject they had been discussing, the talk wandered to general topics. The sun was making long shadows and the hour to start was come.
Her expression was so insinuating that Deena might be excused a slight irritation in her tone as she answered: "I don't account for it." Here they reached the front door, for the approach was a short one, and Mrs. Star got out laboriously and ushered her guest into the hall. "Do you know your way to the library?" she asked.
They were flying between fields strewn with Michaelmas daisies and wooded banks gay with the first kiss of frost, and gradually Deena forgot everything but the exhilaration of rushing through the air, and their attitude of holiday-making.
Deena was wise enough to listen and make no promises, and when she assumed command she contented herself with trying to stand between her sister and domestic worries. Christmas came and went without the visit from Stephen, which Ben had hoped for, and invitations were pouring in for the plethora of social functions that mark the season's height.
At this point Simeon's door opened, and Deena remembered, with regret, that she had omitted to tell him that French was coming to tea. He was already halfway downstairs, but she came out into the passageway and called him. He stopped, gave a weary sigh, and came back. "I forgot to tell you Mr. French is coming to tea," she said, quite in her usual tone.
On the road we overtook a woman and two boys, with an ass; she informed us that she was going for Bambarra, but had been stopped on the road by a party of Moors, who had taken most of her clothes, and some gold from her: and that she would be under the necessity of returning to Deena, till the fast moon was over. The same evening the new moon was seen, which ushered in the month Rhamadan.
"Stephen, I want to see Deena." French's heart began thumping like the screw of his yacht. How he thanked God that he could look his friend in the face as he answered: "So you shall, old man; just as quickly as steam can carry you to her." A look of satisfaction came into the tired eyes. "It will be a race with death," he said, "but perhaps thank you, Stephen." And he fell asleep.
Deena regretted both the likeness and the relationship; it made her uncomfortable to know that Stephen was the nephew of this worldly-minded old lady, with her fictitious standards and her enormous riches; it seemed to place a barrier between them and to lift him out of the simplicity of his college setting. "Have I become a snob in this Relentless City'?" she exclaimed.
He altered his orders half a dozen times as to which carriage should bring her from the train to the house, and finally ordered both; he repeated half a dozen times the hour at which the Boston express was due, in order that Deena might make no mistake about having tea served to the minute, and when he had shut the front door, on his way to the Grand Central, he came tearing back to ask the menu for dinner, as Polly was apt to be fanciful about her food.
Minthrop never to forget her daughter-in-law's inexperience, issued orders that Polly was to stay in her room. This enforced quiet found an outlet in a desire to send Deena everywhere. She drove her forth to dinners and balls, and the high-stepping gray horse was always at her service, and so the beautiful Mrs. Ponsonby became the fashion.
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