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Updated: May 17, 2025
And so the interview was over, the Bishop feeling that he had in some slight degree had the best of it, and the Doctor feeling that he, in some slight degree, had had the worst. If possible, he would not talk to the Bishop on the subject again. He told Mr. Puddicombe also. "With your generosity and kindness of heart I quite sympathise," said Mr.
Randolph and Miss Puddicombe drove along, and Mr. Randolph said it looked too tempting, and wanted to know if they couldn't come and dance. That was all!" The superintendent primmed her lips. "We won't discuss it any further. All I wish to say is that hereafter you may confine your calls to Wednesday afternoon, when we receive visitors."
"Neither, sir!" answered Polly promptly. "We are dancing hikers!" "Wh-at?" the man gasped. But the laughing couple waltzed on. Blue had gallantly claimed Juanita Sterling for her second dance, and as they waltzed down to the street they saw the motorists whom they had left beside the road driving toward them. The car stopped, and Mr. Randolph and Miss Puddicombe stepped out.
"Well, I should rather walk over a thirty-cent rug than every time I turned round have to have a rule to turn by!" Polly tossed out the words impetuously. "You're a saucy girl!" returned Mrs. Puddicombe. "You'd better go home and tell your father to teach you good manners." The president rapped for order. "I beg your pardon, if I was saucy," Polly hastened to say. "I didn't mean to be.
"Miss Nita! You don't mean ?" "Yes, I declined the privilege!" The brown eyes blazed. "I think you're " "Polly, wait! I do not wish to ride with Mr. Randolph he is engaged to Miss Puddicombe!" Polly's eyes grew big. "I don't believe it! How do you know?" "I was told so." "Do you really think it is true?" demanded Polly. "There is nothing else to think."
But before the wood was reached, the party came upon a car by the side of the road. Juanita Sterling had recognized it and longed to run away. "Why, it's Mr. Randolph!" discovered Miss Mullaly. "Yes, he has tire trouble, I see." The president of the Home was already talking with those ahead. Polly came back. "Mr. Randolph and Miss Puddicombe," she whispered. "He is introducing her to the ladies."
He listened with many smiles and with perfect courtesy to the story as it was told to him, and was much less severe on the unfortunates than Mr. Puddicombe had been. It was not the wickedness of the two people in living together, or their wickedness in keeping their secret, which offended him so much, as the evil which they were likely to do, and to have done.
"Let's go on," she whispered, taking Miss Leatherland's arm. The others straggled after, by twos and threes. "Why didn't you stay longer?" questioned Polly, overtaking her friend. "There was nothing to stay for," she laughed. "Miss Puddicombe said she would like to get acquainted with you." Polly's tone had the inflection of disappointment. "Very kind of her," was the quiet comment.
In this way he lashed himself again into a rage. Whenever those odious words occurred to him he was almost mad with anger against the Bishop. When the letter had been two days sent, so that he might have had a reply had a reply come to him by return of post, he put a copy of it into his pocket and rode off to call on Mr. Puddicombe. He had thought of showing it to Mr.
"They should be made to realize how fortunate they are to have such a beautiful Home to live in, instead of finding fault with every little thing and sending people to try to wheedle us into giving them something different from what they have." "Oh, Mrs. Puddicombe!" burst out Polly, "Miss Sterling didn't send me at all! She doesn't know a thing about it!
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