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Updated: May 10, 2025
Then I would go home and write oh, about the snow in our back yard! but when Miss Dillingham came to read my verses, they limped and they lagged and they dragged, and there was no tune that would fit them. At last came the moment of illumination: I saw where my trouble lay. I had supposed that my lines matched when they had an equal number of syllables, taking no account of accent.
What was Miss Dillingham thinking of me? Oh, what a fool I had been! I had ruined my own triumph. I had disgraced myself, and my friends, and poor Mr. Swan, and the Winthrop School. The monster vanity had sucked out my wits, and left me a staring idiot. It is easy to say that I was making a mountain out of a mole hill, a catastrophe out of a mere breach of good manners. It is easy to say that.
Sequin?" Dillingham smiled with superior amusement. "I guess she didn't have to be told. I imagine she thought of it before we did. Rather keen on me, you know, from the start." Donald drew in his breath but said nothing. Had it not been true, how he would have enjoyed punching Dill's head! "You get off to the Orient this week, I suppose," went on Dillingham. "Lucky devil!
Dillingham was a mother. Once, however, judgment had been entered to the effect that Mrs. Dillingham had never lawfully ceased to be Mrs.
If you choose to throw away our friendship, you can take the responsibility," and Mrs. Dillingham hid her face in her handkerchief. Mr. Belcher had been trying an experiment, and he had not succeeded could not succeed; and there sat the beautiful, magnanimous woman before him, her heart torn as he believed with love for him, yet loyal to her ideas of honor as they related to a confiding child!
This I stand ready to prove by the testimony of Helen Dillingham, the sister of the plaintiff." "The witness can be called," said the judge. Mrs. Dillingham looked paler than on the day before, as she voluntarily lifted her veil, and advanced to the stand.
Belcher, in a whisper at Mrs. Dillingham's ear. "You're a wretch," said the lady. "You're right a very miserable wretch. Here you've been playing the devil with a hundred men all day, and I've been looking at you. Is there any article of your apparel that I can have the privilege of kissing?" Mrs. Dillingham laughed him in his face.
Belcher," said the lady, boldly. "The General is one of the ablest of our native authors, eh?" responded that facetious person, with a jolly laugh. "Decidedly," said Mrs. Dillingham, "and so very terse and statistical." "Interesting book, wasn't it?" "Very! And it was so kind of you, General, to let me see how you men manage such things!" "We men!" and the General shrugged his shoulders.
And he felt that no woman who was not either shabbily perverse, or a fool, could misinterpret her. He knew that his wife had been annoyed at finding Mrs. Dillingham in the house. He dimly comprehended, too, that her presence was an indelicate intrusion, but her intentions were so good! Mrs. Dillingham knew exactly how to manipulate the coarse man at her side, and her relations to him and his wife.
There was a train just leaving for Boston and my companion insisted upon taking it, saying that he proposed to spend the money that Dillingham had so kindly furnished him with. I never knew how he discovered the part Dillingham was playing in this strange drama; but if no one told him, he at any rate divined it somehow, and from this moment he assumed the lead and directed all our movements.
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