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Updated: June 17, 2025
Susan could sit up all night, and yet be ready to brightly dispense hot coffee at seven o'clock, could send telegrams, could talk to the men from Simpson and Wright's, could go downtown with Billy to select plain black hats and simple mourning, could meet callers, could answer the telephone, could return a reassuring "That's all attended to, dear," to Mary Lou's distracted "I haven't given one THOUGHT to dinner!" and then, when evening came again, could quietly settle herself in a big chair, between Billy and Dr.
Jagged forks of lightning played all about them like rapiers of steel, and at last the rain came. The brim of Lou's hat, hopelessly limp since its cleansing of the previous day, now flopped stringily against her face until she tore it off and gasping, buried her head in her arms as the sheets of rain pelted down.
It is precisely the expression of an insane person, or a guilty one dreading arrest." "You are a close observer, Floyd. I told my wife that we could not do better than submit the whole case to your judgment. We are all Lou's friends in the neighborhood; but we cannot look at the matter with your legal experience and unprejudiced eyes. Come, let us go into supper now."
I stay fer sump'n you doan know not'n 'bout lub, but lub fer Miss Lou. Ef she kyant 'tect em 'gin you den I go." It certainly was a dismal, shrunken household that Mrs. Baron presided over that morning. Aun' Jinkey came to the rescue and prepared a meagre breakfast. Miss Lou's room being on the side of the house furthest from the scenes of the early morning, she had slept on till Zany wakened her.
They had finally paid for their lot in Piedmont Hills, and a new trolley-car line, passing within one block of it, had trebled its value. This was Lydia's chance to sell, in Mary Lou's opinion, but Lydia intended instead to mortgage the now valuable property, and build a little two-family house upon it with the money thus raised.
Descending, the coloured gentleman flung open the door, and three little girls crept forth, three crushed little girls, three limp little girls, three little girls in a mild kind of mourning. They came forth timidly. They looked around. They hoped they might reach their homes unobserved. There was a crowd up the street. A gathering of people many people. It seemed to be at Emmy Lou's gate.
Emmy Lou's part was to weep when Sadie wept, and to point a chubby forefinger skyward when Hattie mentioned the departure from earth of the soldier parent, and to lower that forefinger footward at Sadie's tearful allusion to an untimely grave. Emmy Lou had but one utterance, and it was brief.
I des got ter 'peal ter Miss Whately, er ole miss hab me whipped haf ter daith." When in response to a timid knock Mrs. Whately peered out of her niece's room she found a trembling suppliant with streaming eyes. Noiselessly shutting the door the matron said warningly: "Don't you know Miss Lou's life depends on quiet?"
Scoville never wearied in questioning his attendant about every detail of Miss Lou's action, while conjectures as to her experiences often robbed him of sleep. Never was a man more completely won and held in love's sweet thraldom. On regaining her room, Miss Lou hastily threw off her cousin's clothes and resumed her own apparel. Then she softly and cautiously opened her door.
Nor does so big a girl as a grammar-school pupil longer confess to any infantile abbreviation of entitlement; she gives her full baptismal name and is written down, as in Emmy Lou's case, Emily Louise Pope MacLauren, which has its drawbacks; for she sometimes fails to recognise the unaccustomed sound of that name when called unexpectedly from the platform.
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