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Updated: May 9, 2025
She followed Anna across a little hollow filled with buttercups and long grasses, and they mounted the little rise to Richie's tiny cabin. The little house had Mount Tamalpais for a background, and its wide unroofed porch faced across the valley, and commanded a view of the wooded ridges, and the marshes, and the distant bay, and of San Francisco twelve miles away.
Richie passed forward at Maxwell's mute signal, and in a moment found himself in the presence of the king. Most men of Richie's birth and breeding, and many others, would have been abashed at finding themselves alone with their Sovereign.
The pity of the slender, crouching figure touched even Helena Richie's heart, that heart of passionate and resentful maternity; so she was able to kiss her, and say, with wet eyes, "poor child!" Elizabeth could not speak. Later, when the mother and son had left the house, Miss White came upstairs and found her still sitting dumb and tearless, on the top step.
She stopped; something warm was on her face; she had not known that she was weeping. Suddenly, far off, she saw a glimmer of light.... Mrs. Richie's house! Her heart rose in her throat. "David," she said aloud, weakly, "David, I'm coming just as fast as I can."
David inquired amiably; "I'm obliged for an example, anyhow!" But Blair did not keep up the chaffing. The atmosphere of Mrs. Richie's house dominated him as completely as when he was a boy. He looked at her serene face, her simple, feminine parlor, the books and flowers and pictures, and thought of his mother and his mother's house.
Perhaps the hurt to her heart and her pride had altered Magsie's sense of values. At all events, she did not even shrink from Richie to-day. She sat down beside the white bed, beside the bony form that the counterpane revealed in outline, and smiled at Richie's dark, thin eager face and sunken, adoring eyes. She laid her warm, plump little hand between his long, thin fingers.
David said, simply, "Did you get any sleep, Elizabeth?" and she said: "Well, not much. Here, let me make the toast; you get something for your mother." But when she carried a little tray of food up to Mrs. Richie, and kneeling by the bedside took the soft mother-hand in hers, she went below the surface. "I am going back to him," she said; and put Mrs. Richie's hand against her lips.
You'd think he'd be glad of a restful evening at home with me, sometimes. But no. William's patients need a surprising amount of attention, though his bills don't show it When Mrs. Richie's cook was sick just as an instance he went six times to see her. I counted." "Well; she got well?" said Dr. Lavendar. "Got well? She'd have got well if he hadn't gone near her."
There was a sort of hesitant intimacy now between these two people, but it had never got so far as friendship. Mrs. Richie's retreating shyness was courteous, but never cordial; Robert Ferguson's somber egotism was kind, but never generous. Yet, owing no doubt to their two children, and to the fact that Mr.
But that flicker of alarm in Elizabeth's eyes had caught Helena Richie's attention. "Why, Elizabeth," she said, in an astonished voice. "You love him!" Then she added, simply: "Forgive me." Her words were without meaning to the other two, but they brought a burst of hope into her entreaty: "Then you won't ruin him! I know you won't ruin my boy if you love him." Elizabeth flinched: "David!
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