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Updated: October 13, 2025
What do you say or you'll think I'm a terrible gossip " "Oh no;" said Mr. Mavering, impatient for the dreadful thing, whatever it was. Mrs. Primer resumed: " to the young married women meeting last winter just after a lot of pretty girls had came out, and magnanimously resolving to give the Buds a chance in society?" "The Buds?"
Mavering had hissed out the last word she had her arm round her boy's neck and was clutching him, safe and sound after his peril, to her breast; and between her kissing and crying she repeated her accusals and denunciations with violent volubility.
"Oh, well, you must brace up," said Boardman. "I've got to go now. She didn't mean it, of course." "Mean what?" "That you were ungentlemanly. Women don't know half the time how hard they're hitting." "I guess she meant that she didn't want me, anyway," said Mavering gloomily. "Ah, I don't know about that. You'd better ask her the next time you see her. Good-bye."
Whittington's, and who had somehow got his address, and sent him a card for her evening. They encountered here with a jocose old friendliness, and a profession of being tired of always meeting Miss Anderson and Mr. Mavering. He brought her salad and ice, and they made an appointment for another walk in the morning, if it was fine. He carried her some flowers.
It is enough that it ended in the social vindication of Dan Mavering. It would not have been enough for Mrs Pasmer that he was accepted in the best Cambridge houses; she knew of old how people were accepted in Cambridge for their intellectual brilliancy or solidity, their personal worth, and all sorts of things, without consideration of the mystical something which gives vogue in Boston.
Some of the audience, an appreciative minority, were of opinion that Mavering and Miss Anderson surpassed themselves in it; she promised him the most beautiful and cultured wife in Greece. "That settles it," he answered.
"He seems to get over it," said Alice evasively. She smiled with pleasure in Miss Anderson's impeachment, however. "Oh, he keeps coming, if that's what you mean. But do drop an umbrella, or a rubber, or something, next time, just to show a proper appreciation." But Mavering did not come any more.
"Were you going, Alice? Better stay. It would be awkward sending out for you. You look well enough." "Well!" The young men came in, Mavering with his nervous laugh first, and then Boardman with his twinkling black eyes, and his main-force self-possession.
"What a dress that was she had on Class Day!" "I never think what she has on. She makes everything perfect, and then makes you forget it." "She's got style; there's no mistake about that." "Style!" sighed Mavering; but he attempted no exemplification. "She's awfully graceful. What a walk she's got!" "Oh, don't, don't, Boardman! All that's true, and all that's nothing nothing to her goodness.
Pasmer thought she must have been keeping young Mavering waiting a long time for his answer. "Why, of course, Alice. But I really don't know what to do about the Saintsburys." This was not in the least true, but it instantly seemed so to Mrs. Pasmer, as a plausible excuse will when we make it. "Why, I'll tell you what, Mrs.
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