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Updated: June 11, 2025
Who'll you have for your escort: Olive Keltridge, or Brenton?" "Brenton?" "Scott Brenton. Surely, I wrote you he was here." Whittenden laughed. "If you did, it never got put in. Most likely Ramsdell balked at the spelling. You mean the Brenton that I married?" "Yes, worse luck!" The rector nodded. "It's come to that; has it? I'm not too much surprised. What is he doing here?"
Indeed, where was the use of wasting the good material of friendship by seeking to convert it to a touchstone whereby to measure up one's theological beliefs? Reed was Reed, albeit flattened out upon his long, lean back, and not a culture-pan for psychological germs. A good deal to his own regret, Brenton met Olive Keltridge on the Opdyke's steps. "I'm so glad you've come, Mr.
"I can produce affidavits," Doctor Keltridge answered grimly. "What's more, I am going to do it soon. They can make fools of themselves, if they choose only the dear Lord got ahead of them, and did it first; but, while I live to fight, they shall not butcher their little babies." Reed nodded his approval. Then, "What did you do in this case?" he inquired, with more than a show of interest.
And then, obedient to the town-wide impulse which never failed to come in times of trouble, Dolph bolted down the Brenton doorsteps on his tiptoes, and dashed away in search of Doctor Keltridge. The pause which followed his departure, as a matter of course, had no connection with it. Rather, it was of two-fold purpose.
To both men, it seemed possible to discuss them with greater freedom from interruption at the doctor's house than at the rectory. Therefore had been the appointment between them. According to his custom, Brenton kept his appointment to the very letter, and the clocks were striking three, when the Keltridge maid deposited him in the Keltridge drawing-room.
It was merely that things struck them the same way at the same instant, and that Dolph, being young and a good deal spoiled, could see no reason against a prompt exchange of comments on the fact. Therefore, for the peace of the other people at the table, it had become a universal local law that, no matter who took Olive Keltridge out, Dolph Dennison should be placed at her other side.
They forgot their hunger completely in their amused curiosity as to the condition in which their host would put in his appearance. Olive Keltridge was a born hostess.
Unhappily, Brenton, after talking with Doctor Keltridge, and heavily bribing the nurse to hold her tongue, knew more about the causes of the cure than Katharine did, and hence his conversion was not greatly expedited by it. It was a good ten days afterward, a good week after his talk with Doctor Keltridge, that Brenton dropped in at the Keltridges', one morning, to make his report upon the child.
Neither, she reflected swiftly, was Scott Brenton quite the sort of man to offer it. Meanwhile, Kathryn, seated in a chair a good deal lower than the laws of perfect grace dictated, huddled her shabby dressing gown about her, ran a vaguely apologetic hand through her puggy pompadour, and went on with her domestic narration. "It's so queer what sets them off, Miss Keltridge.
"Then bring me a book of synonyms. Anyhow, I'll be it, before I'll take the responsibility of that Brenton woman's vagaries. Ask Olive." "I don't need to," Whittenden remarked at his cigar. "I married them. Likewise, I have seen Brenton, this very day. After collating those two references, I don't need Miss Keltridge for a commentary. As for Brenton " Opdyke interrupted.
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