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Updated: May 8, 2025
Lodloe, but she was also of a kindly and grateful disposition, and she very well knew that such a remark would be an extremely detrimental one to the young man; so, being in doubt, she resolved to play trumps, and in cases like this silence is generally trumps. Mrs.
Lodloe was annoyed. He had not yet arranged in his mind how he should account for his possession of the baby, and he did not want an explanation forced upon him before he was ready to make it.
In a few moments she looked from her baby to Lodloe; she had not quite recovered her breath, and her face was flushed, but in her eyes and on her mouth and dimpled cheeks there was an expression of intense delight mingled with amusement. "Will you tell me, sir," she said, "how long you have been carrying this baby about? And did you have to take care of it?"
"Were you a Vassar girl?" he asked. "Oh, yes," said Mrs. Cristie; "I was there four years." "Perhaps you know something of old Matthew Vassar, the founder?" Mrs. Cristie laughed. "I've heard enough about him, you may be sure; but what has he to do with anything?" "I once slept in his room," said Lodloe; "in the Founder's Room, with all his stiff old furniture, and his books, and his portrait."
"I am sorry to say," said Lodloe, "that I never had a sister at that college, though I have one who wanted very much to go there; but instead of that she went with an aunt to Europe, where she married." "An American?" asked Mrs. Cristie. "Yes," said Lodloe. "What was his name?" "Tredwell." "I never heard of him," said the lady. "There don't seem to be any threads to take hold of."
The nurse-maid was perfectly willing to go in the village cart, and was not at all afraid of horses, and Walter Lodloe had no objection to sit on the back seat of the wagon with his lady-love, and help take care of the baby.
"Well, bless his soul, I say, whatever sort of man he is. Now what did they say about me?" "It's my opinion," answered Lodloe, smiling, "that it is a very unsafe thing to tell a man what other people say about him." Lanigan sprang to his feet, and stood, pipe in hand, before the other. "Now, sir," said he, "I have not heard your name yet Lodloe; thank you. Now, Mr.
He was now on his way to spend some months at a quiet country place of which he had heard, not for a summer holiday, but to work where he could live cheaply and enjoy outdoor life. His profession made him more independent than an artist all he needed were writing materials, and a post-office within a reasonable distance. Lodloe gazed with much satisfaction at his new acquisition.
He was interested in what he had heard of the stock of goods which was being sold off about as fast as a glacier moves, and was glad to have the opportunity to look about him. "Do you know, Calthy," said Lanigan, "that you ought to sell Mr. Lodloe a bill of goods?" He said this partly because of his own love of teasing, but partly in earnest.
"Very well," said she; "I shall avail myself of your forethought, and shall try to get a girl in Romney. Where do you go when you leave there?" "Oh, I am going some five or six miles from the town, to a place called the 'Squirrel Inn." "The Squirrel Inn!" exclaimed Mrs. Cristie, dropping her hands into her lap and leaning forward. "Yes," said Lodloe; "are you going there?" "I am," she answered.
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