Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 1, 2025
Of course, it was the Kings' house-party; they were the only luxuriously idle crowd in the country. Edith and her mother greeted me with much apparent joy, but, really, I felt sorry for Frosty; all that saved him from recognition then was the providential near-sightedness of Mrs. Loroman. I observed that he was careful not to come close enough to the lady to run any risk.
I turned, a bit dazed with the unexpected interruption, and saw that it was Edith Loroman, whom I had last seen in the East the summer before, when I was gyrating through Newport and all those places, with Barney MacTague for chaperon, and whom I had known for long. Edith had chosen to be very friendly always, and I liked her only, I suspected her of being a bit too worldly to suit me.
That's why I can't understand her running away off here every summer. And, by the way, Ellie, what are you doing here a stranger?" "I'm earning my bread by the sweat of my brow," I told her plainly. "I'm a cowboy a would-be, I suppose I should say." She looked up at me horrified. "Have you lost your millions?" she wanted to know. Edith Loroman was always a straightforward questioner, at any rate.
I wished that I was back there until I read, down at the bottom of the last page, that Beryl King and her Aunt Lodema had gone back to the East. The next day I learned the same thing from another source. Edith Loroman had kept her promise as I remembered her, she wasn't great at that sort of thing, either and sent me a picture of White Divide just before I left the ranch.
As she had always known me, I must have appeared to her somewhat like Solomon's lilies. But I did not try to convince her; there were other things more important. I went and made my bow to Mrs. Loroman, and answered sundry questions more conventional, I may say, than were those of her daughter. Mrs.
Loroman was one of the best type of society dames, and I will own that I was a bit surprised to find that she was Beryl King's aunt. In spite of that indefinable little air of breeding that I had felt in my two meetings with Miss King, I had thought of her as distinctly a daughter of the range-land.
Loroman was better, and I filled in fifteen minutes or so very pleasantly with her. After that I went over to Edith and got her to sit out a dance with me. The first thing she asked me was about Frosty. Who was he? and why was he here? and how long had he been here? I told her all I knew about him, and then turned frank and asked her why she wanted to know.
Loroman and Edith invited me to stop and eat lunch with them. That Weaver fellow was not present, but another man, whom they introduced as Mr. Tenbrooke, was sitting dolefully on a rock, watching a maid unpacking eatables. Edith told me that "Uncle Homer" which was old man King and Mr. Weaver would be along presently. They had driven over to Kenmore first, on a matter of business.
"You must know that the palace of the King is closed against the Carletons," I, said, and I'm afraid I said it a bit crossly; I hadn't climbed that unmerciful butte just to bandy commonplaces with Edith Loroman, even if we were old friends. There are times when new enemies are more diverting than the oldest of old friends.
When I reached the top, panting like the purr of the Yellow Peril my automobile when it gets warmed up and going smoothly, I discovered that it was Edith Loroman sitting placidly, with a camera on her knees, doing things to the internal organs of the thing. I don't know much about cameras, so I can't be more explicit.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking