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Updated: May 17, 2025
But now we will go to our rooms and freshen up a bit, and then we must get some dinner for our poor, famishing Kitty." Kitty laughed good-naturedly, for she was used to jokes about her appetite, and didn't mind them a bit. They went upstairs to a pleasant suite of rooms, one of which was for the use of Midge and Kitty. "You must change your frocks for dinner," said Mrs. Maynard to the girls.
"She is n't like other girls," contended Miss Gleason darkly. "I would rather have Mr. Libby's opinion," said Mrs. Merritt. Grace went to Mrs. Maynard's room, and told her that Dr. Mulbridge was coming directly after dinner. "I knew you would do it!" cried Mrs. Maynard, throwing her right arm round Grace's neck, while the latter bent over to feel the pulse in her left.
Maynard bore her honors gracefully, and then they all went out to dinner. As Maiden of Honor, Kitty was escorted by her father; next came Mrs. Maynard and Kingdon, and then Marjorie and Rosy Posy. The table had extra decorations of flowers and pink-shaded candles, and at Kitty's place was a fascinating looking lot of tissue-papered and ribbon-tied parcels.
Bryant flew upstairs two steps at a time, and they all followed. But nothing unusual was to be seen. The pretty room was in order, and no clothing of any sort was lying about. Mrs. Maynard looked in the cupboard. "Why, her blue linen is gone!" she said, "and here's the white piqué she had on at luncheon.
Maynard was ill and Mrs. Maynard would not see any one. Margaret was not at home. The maid led Lane across the hall into the drawing-room and left him alone. In the middle of the room stood a long black cloth-covered box. Lane stepped forward. Upon the dark background, in striking contrast, lay a white, stern face, marble-like in its stone-cold rigidity. Blair, his comrade!
"Sure enough," said Mrs. Maynard, "the tulips must be in bloom now, and to-morrow we must go to see them." "Oh, what lovely times we are having!" cried Marjorie. "How long are we going to stay in Boston, Father?" "Long enough, at any rate, to see all these sights suggested by your post-cards. And I may as well tell you, children, that the cards were sent by Mr.
Maynard were somewhat shaken by the children's tragedy, but neither thought it wise to show it. "Now, Mopsy Moppet," said her father, "what do you think I have here?" He took a parcel from the mantel, and held it up. "I don't know," said Midge, trying to smile; "what is it?" "Well, it's a game, a brand new game, and none of your poky old go-to-sleep affairs either.
In fact, she could not have escaped that effect if she would; and it was one of the indomitable contradictions of her nature that she would not. When she came back to the croquet-ground, leading the little girl by the hand, she found Mrs. Maynard no longer alone and no longer sad.
She didn't answer. I knocked again and again. Then I tried her door. It was not locked. I opened it. She was not in the room. I waited, but she didn't come. I I am afraid something is wrong." "She might be with her mother," faltered Mr. Maynard. "No, I'm sure not," asserted Swann. "Not to-night of all nights. Margaret has grown somewhat cold toward her mother. Besides Mrs.
Meanwhile, she was asking herself, "What would they do to me if all was found out?" and sustaining herself by the thought, "Whatever they do to me, they can't reach Lieutenant Scoville." It was gall and bitterness to Whately to find her talking affably to Maynard, but before the meal was over she had the address to disarm him in some degree.
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