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Updated: May 23, 2025
Dunham regarded her. Of course she could get a position on the stage. Any creature so pretty always could. He pictured her in some chorus, these quivering lips reddened and the swimming eyes laughing in the shade of an outrageous hat. "I should say the stage last myself," he returned. "Your own people are the ones. Your Uncle Calvin" "I haven't any."
Miss Martha boarded her car with a heart that was questioning but beginning to hope, and her mind was busy piecing together the evidence. Mr. Dunham had left her for hours. He had been unable to return Judge Trent's money. He knew where Sylvia was. Her misery gradually abated, and before she reached her gate she began to wonder if her bonnet had been on straight during the recent interview.
"Have you explored our little wooden world, yet?" he asked, after a pause. Lydia paused too. "The ship?" she asked presently. "No; I've only been in the cabin, and here; and this morning," she added, conscientiously, "Thomas showed me the cook's galley, the kitchen." "You've seen more than I have," said Dunham. "Wouldn't you like to go forward, to the bow, and see how it looks there?"
I thought this voyage was going to be a season of mental quiet, but having a young lady on board seems to forbid that kind of repose. I shouldn't mind a half dozen, but one is altogether too many. Poor little thing! I say, Dunham! There's something rather pretty about having her with us, after all, isn't there? It gives a certain distinction to our voyage. We shall not degenerate.
None but the common men engaged in this strife, which had little to interest the spectators, among whom no officer had yet appeared. Most of the soldiers were Scotch, the regiment having been raised at Stirling and its vicinity not many years before, though, as in the case of Sergeant Dunham, many Americans had joined it since its arrival in the colonies.
"What sort of men has she been associated with?" asked Dunham. "Well, I'm not quite prepared to say. I take it that it isn't exactly the hobbledehoy sort. She has probably looked high, as far up as the clerk in the store. He has taken her to drive in a buggy Saturday afternoons, when he put on his ready-made suit, and looked very well in it, too; and they've been at picnics together.
He wanted to laugh again, but he liked the captain too well to do that; and then he began to rage in his heart at the general stupidity which had placed him in the attitude of mocking at religion, a thing he would have loathed to do. It seemed to him that Dunham was answerable for his false position. "But we shall not see the right sort of Sabbath till Mr.
"And that we were going on to Trieste with her?" "She had it out of me before I knew," said Dunham. "I didn't realize what she was after; and I didn't realize how peculiar the situation might seem " "I see nothing peculiar in the situation," interrupted Staniford, haughtily. Then he laughed consciously. "Or, yes, I do; of course I do! You must know her to appreciate it, though."
Dunham listened with a vacant stare, for life had already lost so many of its ties that he had really forgotten Arrowhead, and cared nothing for Muir; but he inquired, in a feeble voice, for Eau-douce. The young man was immediately summoned, and soon made his appearance. The Sergeant gazed at him kindly, and the expression of his eyes was that of regret for the injury he had done him in thought.
"I am glad you see what a very good fellow he is. I have a real affection for Dunham." "Oh, yes, he's good. At first it surprised me. I mean " "No, no," Staniford quickly interrupted, "why did it surprise you to find Dunham good?" "I don't know. You don't expect a person to be serious who is so so " "Handsome?" "No, so I don't know just how to say it: fashionable." Staniford laughed.
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