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Updated: May 21, 2025
He ignored the heat that kindled in Richling's eyes, and added, smiling, "You don't do it, I got to do it." With a little more of the like kindly guile, and some wise and simple reasoning, the Italian prevailed.
"What is it for?" "It's for the aid of an asylum overcrowded with orphans in consequence of the late epidemic." There was still a tightness in Richling's throat, a faint bitterness in his tone, a spark of indignation in his eye. But these the Doctor ignored.
"Go home and think of it twenty-four hours," said the Doctor. "It is useless, Doctor." "Very good, then; send for Mary. Mail your letter." "You don't mean it!" said Richling. "Yes, I do. Send for Mary; and tell her I advised it." He turned quickly away to his desk, for Richling's eyes had filled with tears; but turned again and rose as Richling rose. They joined hands.
Half an hour later twenty-five cents had changed hands, the Catalan's fruit shelves were bright with small pyramids sound side foremost of Ristofalo's second grade of apples, the Sicilian had Richling's dollar, and the Italian was gone with his boys and his better grade of fruit. Also, a grocer had sold some sugar, and a druggist a little paper of some harmless confectioner's dye.
And certainly, after many vexations, difficulties, and delays, that took many a pound of flesh from Reisen's form, the pretty, pale-brown, fragrant white loaves of "aërated bread" that issued from the Star Bakery in Benjamin street were something pleasant to see, though they did not lower the price. Richling's old liking for mechanical apparatus came into play.
And the Creole rejoined promptly: "Well, I thought I saw something on yo' thoughts if you'll excuse my tautology. Thass a ve'y diffycult to p'event sometime'. But, Mistoo Itchlin, I trus' 'tis not you 'ave allowed somebody to swin'le you? confiding them too indiscweetly, in fact?" He took a pretty attitude, his eyes reposing in Richling's. Richling laughed outright. "No, nothing of that kind.
"Before you begin, Reisen, I want to ask you a question. I've noticed for a month past that Mr. Richling rides in your bread-carts alongside the drivers on their rounds. Don't you know you ought not to require such a thing as that from a person like Mr. Richling? Mr. Richling's a gentleman, Reisen, and you make him mount up in those bread-carts, and jump out every few minutes to deliver bread!"
Tears sprang into her eyes. She shook her head. "Let's go inside." And in there she told him sincerely, "No, no, no; she didn't think he had done wrong" when he knew he had. The arrangement for Dr. Sevier to place the loan of fifty dollars on his own books at Richling's credit naturally brought Narcisse into relation with it. It was a case of love at first sight.
Everything turned to fun. Mrs. Richling's mirthful mood prompted her by and by to begin letting into her inquiries and comments covert double meanings, intended for her husband's private understanding. Thus they crossed Bourbon street.
"Strangest thing on earth!" I once heard a physician say, "the mysterious power that the dying so often have to fix the very hour of their approaching end!" It was so in John Richling's case. It was as he said. Had Mary and Alice not come when they did, they would have been too late.
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