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Updated: May 5, 2025
You could contest neither the measurements nor the nobleness, and had to feel that Mrs. Farrinder imposed herself. There was a lithographic smoothness about her, and a mixture of the American matron and the public character.
I should like to see that," said Basil Ransom. "There are movements in other cities. Mrs. Farrinder goes everywhere; she may speak to-night." "Mrs. Farrinder, the celebrated ?" "Yes, the celebrated; the great apostle of the emancipation of women. She is a great friend of Miss Birdseye." "And who is Miss Birdseye?" "She is one of our celebrities.
It was german to the matter, at any rate, for him to observe that he believed they were to have a lecture from Mrs. Farrinder he didn't know why she didn't begin. "Yes," said Doctor Prance, rather dryly, "I suppose that's what Miss Birdseye called me up for. She seemed to think I wouldn't want to miss that."
Farrinder spoke in the tone of one who took views so wide that they might easily, at first, before you could see how she worked round, look almost meretricious; she was conscious of a scope that exceeded the first flight of your imagination.
But instead of this he returned to the subject of Verena; he asked her whether she supposed the girl would come out in public would go about like Mrs. Farrinder? "Come out in public!" Olive repeated; "in public? Why, you don't imagine that pure voice is to be hushed?" "Oh, hushed, no! it's too sweet for that. But not raised to a scream; not forced and cracked and ruined.
"If you stay, I won't speak," she added; "I should upset you altogether." And then she continued, tenderly, for so preponderantly intellectual a nature: "When women feel as you do, how can I doubt that we shall come out all right?" "Oh, we shall come out all right, I guess," murmured Miss Birdseye. "But you must remember Beacon Street," Mrs. Farrinder subjoined.
Farrinder if she wouldn't say something, Olive Chancellor tenderly fastened a small battered brooch which confined her collar and which had half detached itself. "Oh, thank you," said Miss Birdseye, "I shouldn't like to lose it; it was given me by Mirandola!"
Olive hated to hear that fine avenue talked about as if it were such a remarkable place, and to live there were a proof of worldly glory. All sorts of inferior people lived there, and so brilliant a woman as Mrs. Farrinder, who lived at Roxbury, ought not to mix things up.
Then memory, or inspiration, returned to her, and presently she was in possession of her part. She played it with extraordinary simplicity and grace; at the end of ten minutes Ransom became aware that the whole audience Mrs. Farrinder, Miss Chancellor, and the tough subject from Mississippi were under the charm. I speak of ten minutes, but to tell the truth the young man lost all sense of time.
"Well, you are impressed too," said Miss Birdseye, looking at her philosophically. "It seems as if no one had escaped." Ransom was disappointed; he saw he was going to be taken away, and, before he could suppress it, an exclamation burst from his lips the first exclamation he could think of that would perhaps check his cousin's retreat: "Ah, Miss Olive, are you going to give up Mrs. Farrinder?"
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