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Updated: June 16, 2025
The little living-room of Applegate Farm bloomed once more into firelit warmth. It seemed almost to hold forth, kindly welcoming arms to its children, together again. "What shall we talk about first?" Felicia sighed, sinking into the hearth chair, with Kirk on her lap. "I never knew so many wildly exciting things to happen all at once!"
Lydia arrived, and she and Tatham withdrew into the inner room for a few minutes, deep in consultation. Felicia watched them with furious eyes. And when they came out again, a soft flush on Lydia's cheeks, it was all that Felicia could do to prevent herself from rushing upstairs again, leaving them to have their horrid meeting to themselves. But flight was barred.
The girls usually went to church at eleven o'clock service. Mr. Sterling was not a member but a heavy contributor, and he generally went to church in the morning. This time he did not come down to breakfast, and finally sent word by a servant that he did not feel well enough to go out. So Rose and Felicia drove up to the door of the Nazareth Avenue Church and entered the family pew alone.
Undershaw, impassive, was playing with his watch-chain. Lydia radiant and erect, in a dress of gray-blue tweed, a veil of the same tint falling back from the harmonious fairness of her face, had her eyes on Felicia. There was a melting kindness in the eyes as though the maternity deep in the girl's nature spoke.
Dixon drew Felicia toward him, and into the kitchen, as he retreated thither. Then she shut and bolted the door. "This is t' yoong lady!" she said in a breathless whisper to her husband. "Muster-Melrose's däater! She's coom fra Duddon. An' she's fer seein' her feyther." Old Dixon had grown very pale. But otherwise he showed no surprise. He looked frowning at Felicia.
The brother and sister protested again and again, that they should never forgive themselves if they could be guilty of any thing that would incur the displeasure of so good and generous a friend. "I shall judge of your wisdom," answered Felicia, with a smile, "by your choice."
Ken and Felicia talked till late into the night, in earnest undertones, of ways and means and the needs of the old house. And slowly, slowly, all the wheels did begin to turn together. Some of the freight came, notably the beds, after a week of waiting. Ken and Hop carried them upstairs and set them up, with much toil.
And as they walked around the square two or three times, he emitted in puffs the exuberant joy with which he was full to overflowing. "How fine it is! What pleasure to breathe! God's thunder! I wouldn't give up my evening for a hundred thousand francs. What a fine fellow that Jenkins is! Do you like Felicia Ruys' type of beauty? For my part, I dote on it.
Miss Felicia Verity, to whom the note was addressed, still enjoyed the hospitality of her sister and brother-in-law; but this, as Mrs. Cowden gave her roundly to understand, must not be taken to include erratic demands upon the stables.
Holker did remember, for a wonder, and extended one hand to prove it, and Felicia but the boy was already bending over her, all his respect and admiration in his eyes. The little chub of a man was now on his feet, standing in an attentive attitude, ready to take his cue from Peter. "And now, my boy, turn this way, and let me introduce you to my very dear friend, Mr. Isaac Cohen."
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