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Updated: May 8, 2025
They're a pretty good little bunch down there. They've been working like beavers. Jane Bristol gets the girls together, and coaches them for every meeting. She's some girl, do you know it?" Howard Letchworth agreed that she was, but he cast a side glance down at the bright head of the girl, who was playing his accompaniment as if he felt there were others.
She watched the strong, fine face of Howard Letchworth, and it suddenly came over her that he seemed very far away from her, like a friend who used to be, but had moved away. Something in her throat hurt, and a sinking feeling came in her heart. Like a flash it came to her that Howard Letchworth would be graduated in three more weeks, and perhaps would go away then and they would see him no more.
Their eyes met and his suddenly fell before her steady, beautiful gaze: "Well, then, Howard Letchworth, if you are so awfully proud that you have to be the richest, I'll throw away or give away all my money and be a pauper, so there! Then will you be satisfied? What's money without the one you love, anyway?" "I see, Leslie! I was a fool. You darling, wonderful princess.
Oh, they pointed out the four young people, the Clouds, Jane Bristol, and Howard Letchworth, as the moving spirits in the work; and they admitted, some of them, that prayer had made the transformation, for there were not many of the original bunch of young people who by this time had not been fully trained to understand that if you wanted anything in the spiritual world you must take time and give energy to getting acquainted with God.
He comes from Glasgow, and his name's Letchworth. He's done more harm in his life than all the criminals he's kept out of prison, belongs to one of the old families down there, too." I had, indeed, remarked Letchworth's face, which seemed to me peculiarly evil, its lividity enhanced by a shock of grey hair. His method was withering sarcasm, and he was clearly unable to control his animus....
Into the midst of their little family group broke a hurried, excited knock on the door, and there stood Howard Letchworth with anxious face. "I heard that your sister and one of the college girls had gone off in a car and got lost. Is it true? I came right around to see if I could help."
He was pale with indignation, and his pallor deepened as a breathless newsboy dashed past with a poster inscribed: "Premier's constituency harried by moss-troopers. Halfour sends encouraging telegram to rioters. Letchworth Garden City threatens reprisals. Foreigners taking refuge in Embassies and National Liberal Club." "This is devils' work!" he said angrily. Belturbet knew otherwise.
So long." He dashed off between the buildings and disappeared between the trees in the edge of the woods. Leslie whirled off down the drive to the street. As she passed the big stone gateway, ivy garlanded and sweet with climbing roses, three seniors turned into the drive, and the foremost of the three was Howard Letchworth.
He comes from Glasgow, and his name's Letchworth. He's done more harm in his life than all the criminals he's kept out of prison, belongs to one of the old families down there, too." I had, indeed, remarked Letchworth's face, which seemed to me peculiarly evil, its lividity enhanced by a shock of grey hair. His method was withering sarcasm, and he was clearly unable to control his animus....
It was on these outings that they talked over serious problems: whether Leslie should join one of the girls' sororities, what they should do about the next Christian Endeavor meeting, why it was that Howard Letchworth and Jane Bristol were so much more interesting than any of their other friends, why Cloudy did not like to have Myrtle Villers come to the house, and what Allison was going to do in life when he got through with college.
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