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Updated: May 7, 2025
Marie's cheeks grew a deeper pink. Her nostrils dilated a little. "It wouldn't be a 'whim, Mrs. Hartwell, and I should be glad to give up," she said with decision. Mrs. Hartwell laughed again, her amused eyes on Marie's face.
The triumph of faith shone in her kindled eyes, though glittering drops fell on the ivory keys, and the whole countenance bespoke a heart resting in the love of the Father. While her fingers still rolled waves of melody through the room, Dr. Hartwell entered, with a parcel in one hand and a magnificent cluster of greenhouse flowers in the other.
Then she turned and followed Mrs. Hartwell up-stairs. It seemed to the three men in the drawing-room that almost immediately came the piercing shriek, and the excited voice of their sister in expostulation. Without waiting for more they leaped to the stairway and hurried up, two steps at a time.
Hartwell is in the parlor and wishes to see you." "To see me!" repeated Clara in surprise, while a rosy tinge stole into her wan face; "to see me! No! It must be you, Beulah." "He said Miss Sanders," persisted the servant, and Clara left the room. Beulah looked after her with an expression of some surprise; then continued penciling the chords of Sappho's lyre.
"But we hadn't any idea that we should intrude on an affair of this sort. In fact, while business must be barred now, I will admit that business was the object of our call." "What sort of business?" inquired Dick Prescott. "We came to challenge you fellows to a race," explained Big Chief Hartwell. "A race?" chuckled Dave. "Queer how you've bit us where we live!"
He is a good nurse." "Yes; he has been nursing poor Tom Hamil, but he died about an hour ago, and Hal is released. I look for Hartwell hourly. You do keep up amazingly! Bless you, Beulah!" Wringing her hand, he descended the stairs.
"Sir, it pains me to hear him spoken of so lightly." "Lightly! Upon my word, I thought Indianic malice was rather a heavy charge. However, I can succeed better if you will allow " "Don't jest, sir. Please say no more about him." His face became instantly grave, and he answered earnestly: "Beulah, as a sincere friend, I would advise you not to alienate Hartwell.
Mary blushed a little at this somewhat ill-deserved praise, but thanked her worthy visiter, for her kindness, and exerted herself so successfully to make her long call agreeable, that the good lady went home with the firm impression that "'Arthur Hartwell had got one of the best wives in the country."
I asked her just now, and she said she hadn't." "Hadn't what?" questioned Mrs. Hartwell, looking a little apprehensively at her sister-in-law's white face and angry eyes. "Hadn't forgotten that she was Uncle Bertram's wife." "Kate," interposed Billy, steadily meeting her sister-in-law's gaze, "will you be good enough to tell me what this child is talking about?" Mrs.
Hartwell smiled, and, looking at her curiously, said: "I never heard her even attempt to sing. Beulah, why will you not try to oblige him?" "Oh, sir! my songs are all connected with sorrows. I could not sing them now; indeed, I could not." And as the memory of Lilly, hushed by her lullaby, rose vividly before her, she put her hands over her eyes and wept quietly.
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