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Updated: June 13, 2025
"I suspect that you didn't listen attentively to the president's speech," Cicily railed. "I listened," Mrs. Delancy declared, firmly. "In spite of that fact, my dear, what does it all mean? Down deep, are you serious in some things I have heard you say, lately?" "Oh, yes, I'm serious enough," was the answer, spoken with a hint of bitterness in the tone.
If the working-men do not stand by each other, where are they to look for help? What have the Christians of this city done?" and the little doctor got up and began to pace the room. "Charities? Yes, little condescending charities. And look at the East Side! Is its condition any better? I tell you, Mrs. Delancy, I don't believe in charities in any charities."
The Roman poet Martial reckons among the elements of a happy life "an income left, not earned by toil," and also "a wife discreet, yet blythe and bright." Felicity in the possession of these, the epigrammatist might have added, depends upon content in the one and full appreciation of the other. Jack Delancy returned from Washington more discontented than when he went.
"I can't waste my time in arguing with a woman," Delancy answered loftily, and, turning away, tugged superciliously at a wisp of whisker. "That's it! Oh, yes, that's it!" Cicily exclaimed, with rising indignation. Her embarrassment had passed, but a flush remained in her cheeks, and her radiant eyes were alight with the battle-lust. "You think women haven't any intelligence.
Seated one afternoon in his favorite corner for street observation, by the open window, with the evening paper in his hand, in the attitude of one expecting the usual five o'clock cocktail, he hailed Jack, who was just coming down-stairs from a protracted lunch. "I say, Delancy, what's this I hear?"
His hand still wrapped, Moses-like, in his beard, his eyes bent in holy wrath upon his hostess, he rose to his feet, and Mrs. Potts, in recounting the scene one of the most thrilling of her life always said that never had she seen Delancy so superbly true, never had she seen blood so tell. "I must say to you, Mrs. Upton, with the deepest pain," he said, "that I agree with Miss Imogen.
"I say," he demanded, "did you remember it all by yourself, sweetheart, or did Aunt Emma remind you? I know she's a great sharp on all the family dates." The badinage seemed in the worst possible taste to the watching Mrs. Delancy, but she forbore comment, although she saw her niece wince visibly.
"Oh, a factory full of them!" The young wife spoke the accusation with a world of bitterness in her voice. "Good gracious, what an extraordinary man!" Mrs. Delancy, under the stimulus of this outrageous guilt again sat erect in her chair. Once more, the flush showed daintily in the withered cheeks; but, now, there was no hint of tenderness in the rose it was the red of anger.
Delancy Barry's summer estate on the "cliff road." As for Captain Jerry, he was janitor at the schoolhouse. The catch was heavy the next morning, as has been said, and by the time the last fish was split and iced and the last barrel sent to the railway station it was almost supper time. Captain Eri had intended calling on Baxter early in the day, but now he determined to wait until after supper.
Will you come, too, Delancy, dear?" she asked her husband, "or will you stay and talk to Mrs. Upton and Miss Bocock? I'm sure that they will be eager to hear of this new peace committee of ours and zestful to help on the cause." Mr. Potts rather sulkily said that he would stay and talk to Mrs.
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