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Updated: June 1, 2025
They were playing chess, Mrs. Porterfield, with all her spectacles, watching the game. I did not ask, and did not know, till afterward, that the express solicitation of the old lady had drawn her from her chamber, and placed her at the table. The conjecture of the evil spirit proved so far correct, and this increased my confidence in his whispers.
Porterfeld or Porterfield, I don't know which, understanding these names of the lower classes too ill to retain and pronounce them, but about which, in my stead, your noble mother could give you information." With these words, Mary Stuart rose, and, leaving William Douglas crimson with rage, she returned into her bedroom, and bolted the door behind her.
'Well, if they enjoy each other's society what's the harm? another asked. 'They'd do just the same on land. 'They wouldn't do it on the public streets, I suppose, said Mrs. Peck. 'And they wouldn't do it if Mr. Porterfield was round! 'Isn't that just where your confusion comes in? I inquired. 'It's public enough that Miss Mavis and Mr.
Now, as they told him what a good time they had had on the birthday, they raised their hats. Porterfield went so far as to tell the radiant Kitty that her boarder was a "Jim Dandy," and that if she should lay her hands on another to "trot him out."
They don't want relief like the ship's watch!" laughed one of the gentlemen. "Well, if they enjoy each other's society what's the harm?" another asked. "They'd do just the same on land." "They wouldn't do it on the public streets, I presume," said Mrs. Peck. "And they wouldn't do it if Mr. Porterfield was round!" "Isn't that just where your confusion comes in?" I made answer.
If it were butter or eggs, milk, cream, or curds, the Long Island Dairy which was really old man Heffern, his daughter Mary, and his boy Tom had them in a paper bag, or on your plate, or into your pitcher before you could count your change. If it were a sirloin, or lamb-chops, or Philadelphia chickens, or a Cincinnati ham, fat Porterfield, watched over from her desk by fat Mrs.
Such things were symptomatic though indeed one scarce knew of what on the part of a young lady betrothed to that curious cross-barred phantom of a Mr. Porterfield. But I am bound to add that she gave me no further warrant for wonder than was conveyed in her all tacitly and covertly encouraging her mother to linger. Somehow I had a sense that she was conscious of the indecency of this.
Mavis had been. I divined that they were poor and that she would take out a very small purse for her trousseau. Moreover for Mr. Porterfield to make up the sum his own case would have had to change. If he had enriched himself by the successful practice of his profession I had not encountered the buildings he had reared his reputation had not come to my ears. Mrs.
MILLIE WHITCOMB, of the fancy goods and notions, beckoned me with her finger. I had been standing at Kate O'Malley's counter, pretending to admire her new basket-weave suitings; but in reality reveling in her droll account of how, in the train coming up from Chicago, Mrs. Judge Porterfield had worn the negro porter's coat over her chilly shoulders in mistake for her husband's.
That evening, to be human at a venture, I requested the steward to go in and ask him if he should care to see me, and the good man returned with an answer which he candidly transmitted. "Not in the least!" Jasper apparently was almost as scandalised as the Captain. At Liverpool, at the dock, when we had touched, twenty people came on board and I had already made out Mr. Porterfield at a distance.
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