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Updated: June 2, 2025
He was so indifferent as to the loss of the hospital, so thankful for the recovery of his daughter, that, strong as was the ground for Eleanor's anger, she could not find it in her heart to be long angry with him. "Dear Papa," she said, hanging closely to his arm, "never suspect me again: promise me that you never will.
She was standing at the Ranch House gate waiting for the stage to Smelter City. Calamity had carried down the yellow suit case. The words came from Eleanor's lips before she thought; or she could never have asked the question: "Calamity, who was it took your little baby away?" The suit case fell from the Indian woman's hand. "D' pries'," she said, "Father Moran."
Eleanor exclaimed, surprised. "Why, don't you remember the time I saw her, with that blue-eyed baby? She was just going into a house on Maple Street." It was at this moment that the gentlemen entered, so there was no further talk of painted ladies; and, besides, Maurice was alert to catch Eleanor's eye, and go home! "Edith is capable of saying anything!" he was thinking, desperately.
Eleanor's hands left her face and fell together upon Gilbert's right. "I have not mine to give," she answered in a low voice.
Even Betty Wales failed to understand Eleanor's interest in the quaint little freshman, and she and the other Chapin house girls rallied her heartily about Miss Carlson's open and unbounded adoration. "Please don't encourage the poor thing so," laughed Katherine, one day not long after the reception.
Good-bye!" She did not speak. She was afraid to speak. "Well, good-bye again!" he said. He turned to his mother. Her eyes were very bright, but there were no tears in them. She looked steadily at him. "It's a pity," she said. Her hand sought Eleanor's and pressed it. "We must all do what's for the best," she said. "None of us can do any more!"
He had she thought he had, once or twice before this fatal morning, shown something like affection for her. But now in short, she made herself as miserable as possible for about half an hour, went down when the clock struck five, with a broken heart, and could scarcely give an intelligible answer to Eleanor's inquiry if she was well.
So when, just after Betty had left, Dorothy King came in and plunged at once into the familiar "I want to congratulate you on that story, Miss Watson," Eleanor smiled pleasantly and murmured, "It's nothing, just a stupid little tale," in conventional college fashion. Frances is the editor-in-chief, you know." A dull red flush spread itself over Eleanor's pale face.
At first it went smoothly enough because Maurice couldn't blame Eleanor's cook, and Eleanor couldn't say that "nothing she did pleased Maurice"; so two reasons for irritability were eliminated; but a new reason appeared: Maurice's eager interest in everything and everybody especially everybody! and his endless good nature, overflowed around the boarding-house table.
'His restlessness as a lover, his excellence as a friend, so a man who knew him well had written of him in earlier days. As for the lover, discipline and penance had overtaken him. But now that Eleanor's claim of another kind was dead, the friend in him had scope. Eleanor possessed him as the lover of Lucy more truly than she had ever yet done in the days when she ruled alone.
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