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Updated: July 15, 2025
The moment I set eyes on Melissa Easterbrook, I will candidly admit, I was her captive at once; and even Lucy, as she looked at her, relaxed her face involuntarily into a sympathetic smile.
Horace Easterbrook, of Hoboken, on your arrival in the States, you would do a good turn to her, and at the same time confer an eternal favour on "Yours very truly, "EMILY WADE." Lucy folded her hands in melodramatic despair. "Kansas City!" she exclaimed, with a shudder of horror. "And Asa P. Easterbrook! A geologist, indeed! That horrid Mrs. Wade! She just did it on purpose!"
Easterbrook to go with him, and it made me angry all over again. And I thought how mean it was of him to use poor Mother as a kind of shield to hide his courting of Theresa! I was angry, too, to have my love story all spoiled, when I was getting along so beautifully with Mother and the violinist. But I'm feeling better now. I've been thinking it over.
But of course, he doesn't do that. If I was a star, now ! Two days after Thanksgiving. The violinist has got a rival. I'm sure he has. It's Mr. Easterbrook. He's old much as forty and bald-headed and fat, and has got lots of money. And he's a very estimable man. He brings me the loveliest boxes of candy, and calls me Puss. The violinist is lots more thrilling, but I shouldn't wonder if Mr.
Easterbrook came with a perfectly lovely sleigh and two horses to take Mother and me to ride, and what a splendid time we had, and how lovely Mother looked with her red cheeks and bright eyes, and how, when we got home, Mr. Easterbrook said we looked more like sisters than mother and daughter, and wasn't that nice of him. Of course, I told a little more about Mr.
She said that any one that would look twice at a lazy, shiftless fiddler with probably not a dollar laid by for a rainy day, when all the while there was just waiting to be picked an estimable gentleman of independent fortune and stable position like Mr. Easterbrook well, she had her opinion of her; that's all. She meant Mother, of course. I knew that. I'm no child.
So it just naturally follows that I don't overhear things as I used to. Not that there's much to hear, though. Really, there just isn't anything going on, and things aren't half so lively as they used to be when Mr. Easterbrook was here, and all the rest. They've all stopped coming, now, 'most. I've about given up ever having a love story of Mother's to put in. And mine, too.
Easterbrook, too, so Father'd know who he was a new friend of Mother's that I'd never known till I came back this time, and how he was very rich and a most estimable man. That Aunt Hattie said so. Then I told him that in the afternoon another gentleman came and took us to a perfectly beautiful concert.
Easterbrook, now " But Mother wouldn't even listen then. She pooh-poohed and tossed her head, and said, "Mr. Easterbrook, indeed!" and put her hands to her ears, laughing, but in earnest just the same, and ran out of the room. And she doesn't go so much with Mr. Easterbrook as she did.
We have an American friend a Miss Easterbrook, of Kansas City, niece of Professor Asa P. Easterbrook, the well-known Yale geologist who very much wishes to find an escort across the Atlantic. If you would be so good as to take charge of her, and deliver her safely to Dr.
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