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Updated: May 21, 2025
Solomon Appleyard, knocking the ashes from his pipe, arose. "Don't know any reason myself why we shouldn't see a little more of one another than we do," suggested Grindley senior, shaking hands. "Give us a look-up one Sunday afternoon," suggested Solomon. "Bring the youngster with you."
That, in mistake for his own, he should have selected the bedroom of the College Rector was a misfortune that might have occurred to anyone who had commenced the evening on champagne and finished it on whisky. Young Grindley, having been warned already twice before, was "sent down." And then, of course, the whole history of the three wasted years came out.
None of the people to whom he spoke within the next three or four minutes remembered having seen the tall, veiled woman in gray, though some "thought" they "might have." "I reckon," wisely decided Captain Jack Benson, "that I know just about enough to take my information to Lieutenant Ridder." As agreed, the young West Pointer was in a room at the Grindley House.
"I can't say I love you. It did not seem to me you you wanted it. But I like you, sir, and I respect you. And and I'm sorry to have to hurt you, sir." "And you are determined to give up all your prospects, all the money, for the sake of this this girl?" "It doesn't seem like giving up anything, sir," replied Grindley junior, simply.
"For a year for nearly a whole year," said Miss Appleyard, addressing the bust of William Shakespeare, "have I been slaving my life out, teaching him elementary Latin and the first five books of Euclid!" As it has been remarked, it was fortunate for Grindley junior he was out of reach. The bust of William Shakespeare maintained its irritating aspect of benign philosophy.
Miss Appleyard smiled graciously nay, further, intimated desire for more. "That your only one?" asked the paternal Grindley. "She's the only one," replied Solomon, speaking in tones less pessimistic. Miss Appleyard had with the help of Grindley junior wriggled herself into a sitting posture.
Returning to college with some other choice spirits at two o'clock in the morning, it occurred to young Grindley that trouble might be saved all round by cutting out a pane of glass with a diamond ring and entering his rooms, which were on the ground-floor, by the window.
But he felt like a prince in the direct line of succession with his net eight hundred pounds still to the good. His first care was to telegraph to Madame Berthe Louison, to the care of Grindley, at Calcutta: "Waiting at Allahabad for your letters, and news of your safe arrival." While rushing past the Vindhia Mountains he had encountered several of his old Indian acquaintances.
Grindley knew that he had a better intellect than Maxwell; and yet he allowed Maxwell to snub him, and he toadied Maxwell in return. It was not on the score of riding that Maxwell claimed and held his superiority, for Grindley did not want pluck, and every one knew that Maxwell had lived freely and that his nerves were not what they had been.
"Got an appointment with young Grindley at three. You stick to it. A spare half-hour now and then that you never miss does wonders. You've got it in you." With these encouraging remarks to Tommy, Clodd disappeared. "Easy for him," muttered Peter bitterly. "Always does have an appointment outside the moment she begins." Tommy appeared to be throwing her very soul into the performance.
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