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Updated: June 23, 2025
"It certainly hasn't been ideal," said Mrs. March with a sigh. "Why hasn't it been ideal?" he asked. "Kenby is tremendously in love with her; and I believe she's had a fancy for him from the beginning. If it hadn't been for Rose she would have accepted him at once; and now he's essential to them both in their helplessness.
It was not yet enclosed by the fence which was to hide its wonders from the non-paying public, but March and Kenby went in through an archway where the gate-money was as effectually collected from them as if they were barred every other entrance. The wooden building was easily distinguishable from the other edifices because these were tents and booths still less substantial.
Bagley's verbal message, this note had brought her in for a quantity of paternal complaint sufficient for the venting of the ill-humor due to his having stayed up too late, and taken too much champagne the night before. But now Mr. Kenby had gone out, wrapped up and overshod, to try the effect of fresh air on his headache, and of shop-windows and pretty women on his spirits.
You've no idea how much Kenby has talked to me about Mrs. Adding!" She broke out laughing. "Well, perhaps you've suffered enough. But you can see now, can't you, that it would have been awful if I had met him, and let out that I didn't know he was here?" "Terrible. But if I had told, it would have spoiled the whole morning for you; you couldn't have thought of anything else."
The gentleman wished to know if he might come in and leave a message with Miss Kenby for her father. "Very well," she sighed. "Show him in." "If he threatens to stay two minutes, I'll see what I can do to make it chilly," volunteered Edna. Mr.
She understood this, and magnanimously urged it as another reason why her husband should not trifle with Rose's ideal of him; to make his mother laugh at him was wicked. "Oh, I'm not his only ideal," March protested. "He adores Kenby too, and every now and then he brings me to book with a text from Kenby's gospel." Mrs. March caught her breath. "Kenby! Do you really think, then, that she "
"It certainly hasn't been ideal," said Mrs. March with a sigh. "Why hasn't it been ideal?" he asked. "Kenby is tremendously in love with her; and I believe she's had a fancy for him from the beginning. If it hadn't been for Rose she would have accepted him at once; and now he's essential to them both in their helplessness.
He joked with Rose about their room and their beds, and put on a comradery with him that was not a perfect fit, and that suffered by contrast with the pleasure of the boy and Kenby in meeting. There was a certain question in the attitude of Mrs.
"Oh, they've only just got settled back in town," answers Edna, evasively. "What do you think of the old gentleman?" "He seems a rather queer sort. Do you know him very well?" "Well enough. He's one of those people whose dream in life is to make money out of their children." "What! Then I did put my foot in it!" Larcher tells of the brief conversation he had with Mr. Kenby.
The girls divided their time between the flat and the Kenby lodgings down Fifth Avenue. Mr. Kenby was subdued and self-effacing when they were about. He wore a somewhat meek, cowed air nowadays, which was not without a touch of martyrdom. He volunteered none but the most casual remarks on the subject of Davenport's disappearance, and was not asked even for those.
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