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Updated: May 18, 2025
He saw Henry Fairfield Osborn, the president of the museum, who wrote me that the museum would be pleased to send under me a couple of naturalists, whom, with my approval, Chapman would choose. The men whom Chapman recommended were Messrs. George K. Cherrie and Leo E. Miller. I gladly accepted both.
Gerald was extravagant and much less frank than he looked; he might have had an object for hiding his promotion. Thorn understood that Osborn made him some allowance, but it was hard to see how the young man was able to belong to his rather expensive club. After a time, Gerald came in and glanced at two or three men who stood about.
I am content, it is true, because I have nothing to wish or look forward to; but still I could not help thinking of poor Captain Osborn and my shipmates, as I looked upon the wreck, and wishing that I might take them by the hand again. It is very natural that one should do so. Why, sir, do you know that I feel unhappy even about the poor ship.
Her eyes were as big as saucers, and she looked at me as if she felt like the Virgin Mary after the Annunciation. Oh! the stupid, inhuman fool!" Her words rushed forth faster and faster, she caught her breath with gasps, and her voice grew more shrill at every sentence. Osborn shook her again. "Keep quiet," he ordered her. "You are going into hysterics, and it won't do. Get hold of yourself."
"I don't understand," he said dully. "Why have you come to my rescue?" "To some extent, it was for Miss Osborn's sake." "Ah!" said Osborn. "I suppose you have a demand to make now I am in your power?" "You are not in my power. Mrs. Osborn has the bill, and if you cannot repay me, I won't urge the debt. But there is, so to speak, a stipulation.
Dale closed the hymn-book, held it behind his back, and stared at the cross-beams of the roof until the hymn was over. After the hymn Mr. Osborn read a couple of chapters from the Bible, and Dale, seated again, understood how utterly unfounded had been his recent notion that these people were devoting any particular attention to him. He looked at them carefully.
"I've had no new clothes since we were married," she murmured suddenly in a voice of yearning. "Well," said Osborn after a pause, "you had such lots; such a big trousseau, hadn't you? It's supposed to last some while." "It's lasted!" Her laugh rang out with a curious merriment; her eyes were downcast so that he could not see the tears in them, but something about his wife touched him profoundly.
The clock struck eleven; for some while now Marie had ceased to notice how musical was its sound, as compared with other people's clocks, but to-night she noticed it anew. It was like little silver bells pealing; there ought to be birth-bells as well as wedding-bells. Osborn was late, but Marie waited up for him, untired.
"I would like; I've lived at Mireside sin' I was born. There's another thing: it's none too good a time for a sale o' farming stock, and when I've paid Osborn, I'll need some money to mak' anither start. Then may-happen a dry spring wold put me straight." "It ought to; you're not much behind," Peter agreed.
"I don't hear anything about that." "We have all missed you." Her assurance left him vaguely unsatisfied. She drew away from him with a sidelong glance, half sad, half ribald, as if she knew and was regretfully amused at what he was thinking. She leaned over the table, cake knife in hand. "Have some of this iced cake, Osborn? Bought specially for you." For a while that pleased and appeased him.
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