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Every pleasant spring morning at the Pennsylvania Station, society met to bid good-bye to its friends going off on the single express. The State Department was lodged in an infant asylum far out on Fourteenth Street while Mr. Mullett was constructing his architectural infant asylum next the White House.
Saunders himself, lightly attired in a nightshirt tucked into a pair of trousers, was rushing here and there, now loudly demanding more water, and then stopping to swear at the bottle-thrower or some other enthusiast. "Web's" smoothness was all gone, and the language he used was, as Abigail Mullett said afterward, "enough to bring down a jedgment on anybody."
Coventry's not being with us. So up and to supper with Sir W. Batten upon a soused mullett, very good meat, and so home and to bed. 24th. So to Westminster Hall, and there at Mrs. Michell's shop sent for beer and sugar and drink, and made great cheer with it among her and Mrs. Howlett, her neighbour, and their daughters, especially Mrs.
But it would not have done to have kept a secret from Captain Lake, of Brandon; and therefore his not seeing the note was a mere accident. 'Oh! no stupid! that's Mullett and Hock's. I have not got it with me; but it does not signify, for there's nothing in it. I hope I shall soon be favoured with his directions as to what to do with the money.
"I don't know," laughed Eve, "but the color is very becoming, dear." "But I shouldn't want Mr. Herrick to think " "He won't," replied Eve, soothingly. "No matter how intoxicated you got, I'm sure he is too much of a gentleman to think any such thing." "Any such thing as what?" "Why, what you said." "But I hadn't said!" declared Miss Mullett, sinking tragically onto the couch.
"Well, I stewed some dried apricots once," said Wade, "and they weren't half bad. I suppose you're going to be busy all the morning, aren't you?" he asked, forlornly. "I'm afraid so." "Indeed you're not," said Miss Mullett, decisively. "You're going to stop as soon as we get this kettleful off. I can do the rest much better without you, dear." "Did you ever hear such ingratitude?" laughed Eve.
"Is there any one about here who knows you, who could prove you were who you say you are?" Mr. Winslow considered. "Ye-es," he drawled. "Ye-es, I guess so. 'Thoph Mullett and 'Bial Hardy and Georgie T. Nickerson and Squealer Wixon, they're all carpenterin' over here and they're from Orham and know me. Then there's Bluey Batcheldor and Emulous Baker and 'Gawpy' I mean Freddie G. and "
"Carrie, if his Satanic Majesty called on us, you'd be telling me after he'd gone how manly he looked!" "Well, I'm not one to deny the resemblance between man and the Devil," responded Miss Mullett, with a chuckle. "I dare say that's why we like them so the men, I mean." "Does Mr. Herrick strike you as being somewhat devilish?" inquired Eve, idly. "N-no, I suppose not. Not too much so, at least.
"But don't you think you ought to see her again?" "Yes, I shall call in the morning to say good-by." "H'm, yes," muttered the other, doubtfully. "I know what such a call is like. You go into the parlor and Miss Eve and Miss Mullett come in together, and you all talk a lot of pasty foolishness for five minutes and then you shake hands and leave. That doesn't help any.
It was pretty and comfortable, with lamps that diffused a cheerful, mellow glow over the lower half of the room and left the upper in pleasantly mysterious gloom. There was much old-fashioned furniture such as the spindle-legged card table at which Miss Mullett and the Doctor were deeply absorbed in cribbage but enough comfortable modern chairs had been provided to render martyrdom unnecessary.
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