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Updated: May 15, 2025
"Flies have very good appetites judging from all I've seen, that is," said Dorothy, "so I don't think she is to be commiserated on that account." "That was only a figure of speech, my dear," replied Mrs. Rathbawne, with engaging placidity. "Mercy! but I'm glad to get home. We've had a positively exhausting day with Natalie's shopping, and the worst of it is to think what a lot more there is to do.
She was very small, and deliciously delicate, was Natalie Rathbawne, like a little Dresden image, with an arbutus-pink complexion, brown hair, and deep-blue eyes, now clouded thoughtfully, but oftener alight with humor, or dilating and clearing under the impetus of conversation.
As Cavendish came out of the Rathbawne residence, Bradbury Avenue was splashed with huge blotches of dazzling yellow, where the light of the westwardly sun poured between the houses and was spilled upon the smooth pavement. The man choked slightly at the after-taste of the raw whiskey he had just swallowed, but almost immediately he smiled.
"What is the use of having such a title, if one can't call you by it?" she would say, when he remonstrated. "Do you suppose that, if Natalie were engaged to a prince, I should be going around, calling him Tom, Dick, or Harry, instead of 'Your Royal Highness'? You ought to be proud of your title. I am!" "But, Mrs. Rathbawne" "Now, please not, Lieutenant-Governor, please not!
"I thought my opportunity would never come, and here it is, after all the chance to act! And, somehow, I feel that it is only the beginning that, as he gets to understand me better" Rathbawne suddenly left his daughter's side, and in three steps was directly before the Lieutenant-Governor.
The calm indifference with which he had received his dismissal from the employ of Peter Rathbawne seemed to him, on reflection, to have been the unconscious forerunner of the elaborate nonchalance with which he now viewed the unexpected filling of a broken straight. It was certain that the other player had not guessed the strength of his cards. He had never forgiven, never forgotten.
Then he went out, closing the door softly behind him. At the Rathbawne Mills it was usual for a huge whistle to give one long blast at noon as a signal for the lunch hour.
And yonder the tide of anarchy was slowly but surely rising about the Rathbawne Mills, presaging riot, bloodshed, God alone knew what! but one thing, inevitably, the absolute downfall of dignity and rout of decency in Alleghenia! Suddenly, his old intrepid spirit of resolution reasserted itself, but doubtfully, like the flame of a lamp flaring once out of dimness before it dies forever.
He's really getting into some very good habits, of late." "Why, Dorothy!" said Mrs. Rathbawne, digging her chin reproachfully into her black velvet collar, "how can you say such things? Mr. Nisbet will think you have had no bringing up at all. And do sit up straight, my dear!" "And if you don't stop nagging, O most conscientious of parents," retorted Dorothy, with her nose in the air, "Mr.
He was about to strike his match when an instinct rather than an actual perception of movement arrested his hand. Bradbury Avenue, upon which stood the Rathbawne house, was situated in one of the quieter residence districts which prided itself on the turfed spaces between its dwellings, pretentious enough for the most part, and the double rows of trees which lined its thoroughfares.
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