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Updated: May 31, 2025
Doctor Bob imparted the ineluctable fact to Bernald while the two men, accidentally meeting at their club a few nights later, sat together over the dinner they had immediately agreed to consume in company. Bernald had left Portchester the morning after his strange discovery, and he and Bob Wade had not seen each other since.
"Well," she admitted finally, "I've been to two or three house parties in Portchester and around in Connecticut but, of course, that isn't in New York State, is it? And neither is Morristown," she finished with drowsy irrelevance. There was a shout of laughter. "Oh, Lord!" cried Dick, "neither is Morristown! No, and neither is Santa Barbara, Gloria. Now listen.
"It is a mercy that no inheritor of their misfortune remains," quoth the good woman, as she saw the affliction her tidings caused in this much-revered friend. The assent Mr. Sutherland gave was mechanical. He was anxiously studying the road leading toward Portchester. Suddenly he stepped hastily into the house.
But as friends and strangers were now leaving the yard, he controlled himself, and assuming a more natural demeanour, asked his son if he were now ready to ride back. But, to his astonishment, Frederick replied that he did not intend to return to Sutherland town at present; that he had business in Portchester, and that he was doubtful as to when he would be ready to return.
THAT this hope was to be frustrated Bernald learned from Howland Wade's own lips, the day before the two young men were to meet at Portchester. "I can't really, my dear fellow," the Interpreter lisped, passing a polished hand over the faded smoothness of his face.
Then slowly it faded out, faded back into that impenetrable darkness whence it had come taking relentlessly its modicum of youth. With an infallible sense of the dramatic it chose a little railroad station in a wretched village near Portchester.
If I pay a hundred pounds for it, I'll not give up till his poor corpse is found to have Christian burial, and I'll begin with the old vault at Portchester! My good father, the Major, would not hear of it at first, nor my husband either, but 'tis my money, and I know how to tackle Robin." It was with strangely mingled feelings that Anne listened.
"For, at a word, be it understood, He was always for ill and never for good." A week had passed since any of the family from Oakwood had come to make inquiries after the convalescent at Portchester, when Dr. Woodford mounted his sleek, sober-paced pad, and accompanied by a groom, rode over to make his report and tender his counsel to Major Oakshott.
She is from Sutherlandtown and I am from Portchester, and the distance of nine miles is enough to estrange people. But here, each with a husband absent and a darling infant lying asleep under our eyes, interests we have never thought identical drew us to one another and we chatted with ever-increasing pleasure when suddenly Mrs. Sutherland jumped up in a terrible fright.
The boat is not far off." "Boat!" exclaimed my mother, "must we then go to sea?" "Not exactly," replied Firebrand, with a light laugh, "unless you dignify Portchester Creek by that name.
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