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Updated: July 7, 2025
Baxter was perhaps at that very moment sharing with Adelaide. He longed to question his granddaughter, but did not know how to put it. "How was your mother looking?" he finally decided upon. "Dreary," answered Mathilde, with a laugh. "Does this picture remind you of any one?" asked Wayne, suddenly. Mr. Lanley looked at him as if he hadn't heard, and frowned. "I don't know what you mean," he said.
It was a quiet hour in the house, and he might have been supposed to be a man entirely at peace. Mr. Lanley, coming in about an hour later, certainly imagined he was rousing an invalid from a refreshing rest. He tried to retreat, but found Vincent's black eyes were on him. "I'm sorry to disturb you," he said. "Just wanted to see Adelaide." "Adelaide has a headache."
The fourth person Mr. Wilsey, Lanley's lawyer, she knew well by reputation. She wondered if she could make him see that his position on the eight-hour law was absolutely anti-social. Mr. Lanley enjoyed a small triumph when she entered. He had been so discreet in his description of her to Mrs.
Lanley stood on the hearth-rug, with a cigar in his mouth and his head thrown very far back. Adelaide sank into a chair, looking, as she often did, as if she had just been brilliantly well posed for a photograph. Farron was silent. Mrs. Wayne sat, as she had a bad habit of doing, on one foot. The two groups were sufficiently separated for distinct conversations.
Wayne had accepted his offer of marriage, by this time he would have begun to think of the horror of telling Adelaide and Mathilde and his own servants. Now he thought of nothing but the agreeable evening before him, one of many. When Pete came in to dress, Lanley was just in the act of drawing the last neat double lines for his balance. He had been delayed by the fact that Mrs.
Lanley decided that he must go to work, though he abandoned his traditions no further than to study law. His ancestors, like many of the aristocrats of the early days, had allowed their opinions of fashion to influence too much their selection of real estate.
"Now, that's not friendly at the start," said he, "to think I care so much." "Well, you're not like a theological student." "A good deal better, probably," answered Lanley, with a gruffness that only partly hid his happiness. There was no real cloud in his sky. If Mrs.
Baxter had been severe; "but the poor lady's mind is evidently seething with a good many undigested ideas." "You should have pointed out the flaws in her reasoning, Wilsey," said his host. "Argue with a woman, Lanley!" Mr. Wilsey held up his hand in protest. "No, no, I never argue with a woman. They take it so personally." "I think we had an example of that this evening," said Mrs. Baxter.
Certainly they had been in love more in love than he liked to see two people, at least when one of them was his own daughter. He had suggested their waiting a year or two, but no one had backed him up. The Severances had been eager for the marriage, naturally. Mr. Lanley could still see the young couple as they turned from the altar, young, beautiful, and confident.
Lanley shook his head, still moving briskly northward with that quick jaunty walk of his. And this second marriage what about that? They seemed happy. Farron was a fine fellow, but not, it seemed to him, so attractive to a woman as Severance. Could he hold a woman like Adelaide? He wasn't a man to stand any nonsense, though, and Mr.
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