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But she did see that the front windows of the flat building across the way were bare of the Chicago-grey lace curtains that had hung there the day before. House cleaning! Well, most decidedly spring had come. Rose was the household's Aurora. Following the donning of her limp and obscure garments it was Rose's daily duty to tear the silent family from its slumbers.
Who can depict the secret chagrin of an old maid who sees pass by in useless monotony her dark, loveless, despairing days, without hope even of some event of personal interest, while about her moves the busy whirl of happier creatures whose life has but one goal, who feel emotions and tendernesses, and who look upon her simply as an obscure accessory in the household's affairs!
A bathroom without plenty of hot water accessible is not, as we have previously hinted, likely to become a popular resort. When the wash boiler and the tea kettle have to be heated on the range and brought up in a precarious progress that threatens a scalding for fingers, feet, and floors, to even hint the possibility of the entire household's insisting upon a daily hot bath suggests lunacy.
"I'll stay as long as you like!" said Quin heartily; and he departed to make his peace with Madam. From that time on Quin's status in the family became less anomalous. To be sure, he was still Mr. Randolph's private secretary, Madam's top sergeant, Miss Isobel's and Miss Enid's body-guard, and the household's general-utility man; but he was now something else in addition.
The sportsman's favorite hunter, astray without his collar, the lady's pet, crying pitifully in the street, unable to find its mistress's door, the children's playmate, waiting in front of the school house for school to close, the poor man's help and comfort, his household's joy, guardian and friend, caught in the street on his return from his humble master, to whom he carried his homely dinner.
Guy interrupted, with intense gravity. "How wrong of them! They are very ill-regulated young men down in those parts, I believe." "Don't be absurd; I never saw a creature for months between fifteen and fifty. Are not those ages safe?" At last I had the greatest mind to do something desperate to write to you, for instance merely to see the household's horror when your answer came.
Straight the answer came, "Tobiah is my sire, and he doth inquire of thy health and thy household's." Then the letter he unfolds. The contents Peer espies, every doubt flies, he regards the token with no word spoken. "'Tis the son of my friend, who greeting thus doth send. Is it well with him? Say." "Well, well with him alway."
So was her father. The only decent people in the world were the people of the island, who would have nothing to do with him because of something wicked he had done. This was apparently the explanation Miss Jacobus had given her of the household's isolated position. For she had to be told something! And I feel convinced that this version had been assented to by Jacobus.
Had those letters obsessed her a little more strongly she might have become quite mad, the Freudians would tell you. Had they held less for her, or had she not been so completely the household's slave, she might have found a certain solace and satisfaction in viewing the Greek profile and marcel wave of the most-worshipped movie star.
It was the household's 'scutcheon of respectability. This woman, even in her degradation, true to the noblest instinct of her sex, clung to this holy record of a faded glory. Two days later, pushing on in the starlit night, we heard ahead the sullen boom of waters in turmoil. For a half-hour, as we proceeded, the sound increased, until it seemed close under our prow.
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