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Updated: May 25, 2025
I thought you said that was why you wanted to to Hang it all! my name's Peterson-Jones Wilfred Peterson-Jones." Patsy was on her feet, clasping her hands in a shameless burst of emotion while she dropped into her own tongue. "Oh, that's a beautiful name a grand name! Don't ye ever be changing it! And don't ye ever give up writing poetry; it's a beautiful pastime for any man by that name.
"'Aye, now am I in Arden, the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a better place but travelers must be content." And taking a firm grip of her memories, her wits, and her courage, she went down the hill. Under the Management of Geo. Travis Presenting Wm. Shakespeare's Comedy In the Forest of Arden, on the Estate of Peterson-Jones, Esq.
Already she had picked out Travis, Janet Payne and her party, the people from Quality House, who still gaped at her, unbelieving, and young Peterson-Jones, looking more melancholy, myopic, and poetical than before.
She hunted Felton up at the hotel and explained her absence: "Just a week-end at one of the fashionable places. No, not exactly professional. No, not social either. You might call it providential, like this." The morning was spent meeting her fellow-players going over the text, trying on the St. Regis costumes, adjourning at last to the estate of Peterson-Jones.
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