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Updated: May 24, 2025
They've got to be on file in the land office by the thirty-first." Teddy turned his head lazily. Octavia's chair was vacant. A certain centipede, crawling along the lines marked out by fate, expounded the situation. It was early one morning while Octavia and Mrs. Maclntyre were trimming the honeysuckle on the west gallery.
The morning after that he was too ill to get up, and Mrs. Maclntyre sent for a doctor. "He has always been so perfectly well, and seemed to have such a strong constitution, that I cannot allow myself to believe this will be anything serious," said Mrs.
"Will they be out here all winter?" asked Meyers, who was a newcomer in Lloydsborough. "Yes, their father and mother have gone to Florida, and left them here with their grandmother Maclntyre." "I imagine the old lady has her hands full," said Meyers, as a sound of scuffling in the next room reached him. "Oh, I don't know about that, now," said the station-master.
But there was nothing in his ingenuous, weather-tanned face to warrant a suspicion that he was making an allusion nothing. Beyond a doubt, thought Octavia, he had forgotten. "Mr. Westlake likes his fun," said Mrs. Maclntyre, as she conducted Octavia to her rooms. "But," she added, loyally, "people around here usually pay attention to what he says when he talks in earnest.
How delicious was that morning breeze coming in the windows, fresh and sweet with the breath of the yellow ratama blooms! Might one not stand, for a minute, with shining, far-gazing eyes, and dream that mistakes might be corrected? Why was Mrs. Maclntyre poking about so absurdly with a broom? "I've found it," said Mrs. MacIntyre, banging the door. "Here it is."
Pete was lighting the hall lamps as the ladies came in, and he turned his back to hide the broad grin on his face, as he thought of the sight which would soon greet them. Mrs. Maclntyre gave a gasp of astonishment and sank down in the nearest chair as Malcolm came dashing into the bright lamplight.
Maclntyre bent over her, his own handsome face white and haggard. He looked ill himself, from the constant watching and anxiety. "I'd give anything in the world that I own! Everything!" he groaned. "I'd do anything, sacrifice anything, to see him as well and sturdy as he looks there!" Then he caught up the picture.
Maclntyre, with much clutching of skirts and skirmishing for the position of rear guard in the attacking force, followed. Once outside, the centipede seemed to have disappeared, and his prospective murderers began a thorough but cautious search for their victim.
Maclntyre sat stringing yards of wax beads, that gleamed softly in the lamplight like great rope of pearls, and Mrs. Sherman was painting the posters, which were to be put up in the post-office and depot as advertisements of the Jonesy Benefit. Miss Allison, who had been busy for hours with pasteboard and glue, tin-foil and scissors, held up the suit of mail which she had just finished.
"What a blessing that there are such places as orphan asylums for children of that class," said Mrs. Maclntyre, after one of her visits to him. "I must make arrangements for him to be put into one as soon as he is able to be moved." "I think he will be very loath to leave the old professor," answered Miss Allison.
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