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Updated: June 3, 2025
She's pretty much of a stiff, too, and I wouldn't mind handing her one while we're at it. But, Lord, this won't hurt her a bit." Mrs. De Peyster sat suddenly upright. "Not hurt her?" "Didn't I tell you?" chortled Mr. Pyecroft. "Why, when our excellent friend, Mr. Brown, presents the Duke's letter to-morrow morning to his chief, or to Mrs.
Dreaming over McDermott's story, Frank realized that a call-boy was charging around the dining-room screaming his name and room number. "Mr. Philip de Peyster." "Hello, old man!" Frank cried, with genuine pleasure, as Mr. de Peyster came forward. "I found so many messages from you, I fear the worst. You're wanting me to stand up with you, I take it." De Peyster shook his head.
"What's the matter?" asked Mary, in deep concern. "Our sister probably did not hear, she is slightly deaf," Mr. Pyecroft explained. He bent over Mrs. De Peyster, made a trumpet of one hand, and raised his voice. "Angelica, if any other person comes into the house, you are to say that young Mrs. De Peyster is your daughter. You understand?" Mrs. De Peyster nodded. "And of course you'll say it?"
"Yes. In fact, it's a a fact." "A fact?" "I have just come from the meeting of the directors. They have voted to pay no dividends." "No dividends!" Mrs. De Peyster gazed stupefied into the face of Judge Harvey. "No dividends! Then then my income?" "I am very sorry," said Judge Harvey. Mrs. De Peyster sank back in her chair and laid one hand across her eyes.
He put his hand across his clerical vest, and bowed first to Mrs. De Peyster, then to Matilda. "It gives Mr. Preston very great pleasure to meet you, ladies. Only for the present he humbly petitions to be known as Mr. Pyecroft." Mrs. De Peyster was quite unable to speak. So this was the man Judge Harvey was trying to hunt down!
Arent Schuyler de Peyster had succeeded to Hamilton, the "hair buyer," captured by George Rogers Clark and sent in chains to Virginia. He had shown great activity in arming and inciting the Indians against the settlers in Kentucky, and Henry hated him all the more because he was an American and not an Englishman.
De Peyster saw a dark, piquant face, with features not regular, but ever in motion and quick with expression eyes of a deep, deep brown, with a glimmer of red in them, eyes that gave out an ever-changing sparkle of sympathy and mischief and intelligence and a mass of soft dark hair, most unstylishly, most charmingly arranged, that caught some of the muffled light and softly glowed with a reddish tone.
In three days Frank reached New York, where he found mail at the club: from the South; from the Western mines; from women inviting him; as well as five or six messages by wire or mail from one Philip de Peyster, soliciting an immediate interview.
De Peyster with all her dignity, "that you learned to be a gentleman!" "Oh, I suppose I learned that all right," Jack acquiesced. "And I've been working hard at the profession ever since sixteen to twenty hours a day, no half-holidays and no Sundays off. I can't stand it any longer. So I've decided to go on strike." "Strike?" exclaimed his mother, bewildered. "Yes. For better conditions.
"I know. That's another reason I didn't tell you especially since we were planning a thousand-mile lark." "What's the matter with your hands?" suddenly demanded Mrs. De Peyster. Jack gazed meditatively at the bandaged members. "You were right about that car being dangerous, mother," said he. "I'll confess the whole business.
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