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Updated: June 16, 2025
But coy sleep, as usual when most wanted, refused to come. At daybreak the restless man gave it up in despair, and rose and dressed himself. He wrote that letter to Catharine, little thinking it would fall into her hands while he lived. He ate a little toast, and drank a pint of Burgundy, and then wandered listlessly about till Major Rickards, his second, arrived.
He strode behind her to the door, through the smoke-room, to the further door. In the hall Partridge hovered. He left her to him. And, as she followed Partridge across the wide lamp-lighted space, he noticed for the first time that Elise, in her agitation, waddled. Like a duck a greedy duck. Like that horrible sister of hers, Bertha Rickards. Then he thought of Barbara Madden.
Ma glanced affectionately at the mighty figure filling up the bed. The man nodded. "Y' see, things don't seem hard till you see your old man's blood runnin'," she went on. "Then well, I guess I ain't no more stummick fer fight. I'd be thankful to God A'mighty to end my days peaceful." Mrs. Rickards nodded sympathetically. "You're quite wise," she said. "It seems to me you've earned a rest.
Even now I am not altogether sure it's right by the girl's dead father but " "But ?" Ma's face was serious while she waited for the other to go on. "But but well, if I was a girl, and could get such a man as Seth for a husband, I should be the proudest woman in the land." "An' you'd be honored," put in Rube, speaking for the first time. Mrs. Rickards laughingly nodded. Ma sighed.
They had lived and died together. They would perhaps awake together. But not on the prairies of the West. "I'd like to know how it's all going to end." Mrs. Rickards drew a deep sigh of perplexity and looked helplessly over at Ma, who was placidly knitting at her husband's bedside.
"There is no question of thinking," Rosebud smiled mischievously into the looking-glass in the direction of her relative. "And if Seth were to ask me I would marry him to-morrow there. Yes, and I'd make him get a special license to avoid unnecessary delay." Of a sudden Mrs. Rickards started up in bed. For one moment she severely eyed the girl's laughing face.
Rickards and Rosebud had relieved the farmwife of all her duties that she might be free to lavish her utmost care upon her staunch old friend and husband. The future prospects of the farm were less involved than the affairs of most of the farmers. The setback of the rebellion was tremendous, but years of thrift had left White River Farm independent of a single year's crops.
She pouted her displeasure and, without a word, abruptly left the room. Ma and Mrs. Rickards the latter's composure quite restored by Seth's reassurance looked after her. Both smiled. Seth remained grave. The girl's mischief had brought home to him the full responsibility which devolved upon Rube and himself. Truly it was the old Rosebud who had returned to White River Farm.
Rickards and Elise Levitt. Elise, if you cared to be critical, had the same defects: short legs, loose hips; the same exaggerations: the toppling breasts underpinned by the shafts of her stays. Not Mr. Waddington's taste. And yet and yet Elise had contrived a charming and handsome effect out of black eyes and the milk-white teeth in the ivory-white face.
He had had a fastidious horror of being handled after death by the kind of old women who are accustomed to lay out bodies, and therefore Mrs. Caldwell begged Ellis and Rickards to perform that last duty for him themselves. When the children went to bed, she took them to kiss their father. The stillness of the chamber struck a chill through Beth, but she thought it beautiful.
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