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Updated: June 20, 2025
Ferdie was charming; not more charming to Bartie's wife than he was to Frances; not more charming to Frances than to her sisters; so that even Louie unbent, and Emmeline and Edith fell in love with him. He flirted with Frances under Anthony's nose; and with the Aunties under Grannie's nose. The corners of Vera's mouth followed the tilt of her long eyes' corners as she saw him do it.
"But then, you know, they'll be expectin' us to bring an extra young man." "They needn't be heartbroken over that," says I. "You didn't say who he was, did you?" "Why, no," says Ferdie; "but " "Since you press me so hard," says I, "I'll sub for him. Guess you need me to get you there, anyway." "By Jove!" says Ferdie, as the proposition percolates through the hominy. "I wonder if "
And nobody, except Ferdie sometimes, when they let him, ever wanted to be alone in any room with her. She was so tired of the rooms where she was obliged to be always alone with herself or with the servants, though the servants were always kind. Now, in Uncle Anthony's house, there was always peace and quietness and an immense security. She knew that, having taken her, they wouldn't give her up.
'By Jove, "Ferdie," where have you turned up from? 'Has the "Skipper" arrived? 'Have any of you seen "Jamie?" 'Where's big "Mars'" tents? 'Have any of ye seen my "Bearer?" 'Has the "Bump" come in? and so on. Such a scene of bustle and excitement. Friends meet that have not seen each other for a twelvemonth. Queries are exchanged as to absent friends. The chances of the meeting are discussed.
Two or three times durin' the dance they got scatterin' applause, and when the music fin'lly stops, leavin' 'em alone in the middle of the floor, they got a reg'lar big hand. "I take it all back," says I to Ferdie. "That was real classy spielin'. Now wa'n't it?." "No doubt," he grunts. "And I suppose I should be thankful that Marjorie didn't try to jump through a paper hoop.
Take this: 'Regret very much unable to accept your kind invitation' which might mean anything, from a previous engagement to total paralysis." "Ye-e-es," says Ferdie, hangin' his bamboo stick over his left arm and chewin' the penholder thoughtful, "but Marjorie'll be awfully disappointed. I think she really does want to go." "Ah, squiffle!" says I. "She'll get over it. Whose joint is it, anyway?"
We start Saturday; that is, if I can make up a little party. But I don't just know whom to ask." "Pardon me if I seem to hint," says I, "but what's the matter with brother-in-law Ferdie and Marjorie, with Vee and me thrown in for luck?" "By Jove!" says he, brightenin' up. "Would you? And would Miss Vee?" "Maybe we could stand it," says I. "Done, then!" says he. "I'll 'phone Marjorie at once."
Her attachment to Ferdie Cameron had been different. It was inevitable, and in a sense forgivable, seeing that it had been brought about by Bartie's sheer impossibility. Besides, the knowledge of it had dawned on them so gradually and through so many stages of extenuating tragedy, that, even when it became an open certainty, the benefit of the long doubt remained. And there was Veronica.
Your lovingest "VERA." Frances said, "Poor Vera! She even makes poor Mick an excuse for seeing Ferdie." Three more years passed and Frances had fulfilled her promise. She had taken Veronica. The situation had become definite. Bartie had delivered his ultimatum.
I stayed long enough to see him slump into an easy-chair, his under lip limp and a puzzled look in his eyes, like he was tryin' to figure out just what had hit him. And over by the fireplace is Ferdie, gawpin' at him foolish, and exercisin' his gears, I expect, on the same problem. Neither of them had said a word up to the time I left.
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