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Updated: June 9, 2025
Now the letter which had caused so much trouble in the Ried family, and especially in Ester's heart, was, in one sense, not an ordinary letter. It had been written to Ester's cousin, Abbie, her one intimate friend, Uncle Ralph's only daughter. These two, of the same age, had been correspondents almost from their babyhood; and yet they had never seen each other's faces.
He lay still and looked at it for a while, then arose and gave such careful attention to the soap and water as was new to him, and arrayed himself in the clean linen. His clothes were whole and clean. Mr. Roberts had seen to it that he went respectably dressed to his mother's funeral. A tap at his door a little later, and young Ried appeared, shoe-brush and blacking-box in hand.
Father, I advise you to yield while you can do it gracefully, and also to save me the trouble of smashing the aforesaid bottles." "But," persisted Mr. Ried, "I haven't heard an argument this evening. What is there so shocking in a quiet glass of wine enjoyed with a select gathering of one's friends?"
He is not a man whom I can respect; not a man with whom I should like to see my sister on terms of friendship. I have known him well and long, Sadie; therefore I speak." Sadie Ried was never fretful, never petulant, and very rarely angry; but when she was, it was a genuine case of unrestrained rage, and woe to the individual who fell a victim to her blazing eyes and sarcastic tongue. To-night Dr.
Ried waited as long as he could, curious to know the result of Mart's first impressions. Then he went away, and Gracie went to her room, and the house settled into quiet, and Mr. Roberts, in the library, waited for his wife, while she told over again, with tender words and simple illustrations, the "old, old story," so fitted to the wants of the world. How many times has there been a like result.
Ried asked, pausing in the doorway, which question Ester answered by turning a flushed and eager face toward them, as she passed the letter to Sadie, with permission to read it aloud.
They are sharp fellows; it wouldn't take them an hour to discover that we were fishing for them; and if there is any one thing on which they are at present determined, it is, probably, that they will not be benefited. What is there that one of us knows, of which the others are ignorant? French won't do, for Miss Dennis is acquainted with that language, I think, and so are you, Ried, are you not?"
"Can't Maggie do any of these things?" "Maggie is ironing." Mrs. Ried sighed. "It is a good thing that I don't have the sick headache very often," she said sadly; "or you would soon wear yourself out. Sadie, are you going to the lyceum tonight?" "Yes, ma'am. Your worthy daughter has the honor of being editress, you know, to-night. Ester, can't you go down?
Nevertheless, not one movement of young Ried escaped the notice of some of them. He tried still to carry on a conversation; though the business of eating was being too closely attended to on all sides to let him be very successful. Gracie studied him, and was not only interested in his efforts, but roused to make some attempts herself. What could she talk about with such people? School?
There did seem to be a good deal of confusion in the orderly household, and the very air of the hall seemed to be pervaded with a singular subdued excitement; voices of suppressed loudness issued from the front parlor and as Ester knocked she heard a half scream from Mrs. Ried, mingled with cries of "Don't let her in."
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