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Updated: June 20, 2025
"I've surprised you almost as much as I did Aunt Saidie," she said, with her cheerful laugh, which floated a little strangely on the sullen atmosphere. Catching her by the shoulder, Fletcher drew her into the circle of the lamplight, where he stood regarding her in gloomy silence. "You've filled out considerable," he remarked, as he released her at the end of his long scrutiny.
Something surely is due to me as your husband, and that there is no great amount of sympathy between you and Saidie you have said repeatedly; therefore I am asking no great sacrifice of you. Do you hear me, Bella?" "Yes, I hear." "And you will respect my wishes in the matter?" "I don't know," she spoke uncertainly.
He set down the lamp and turned her face towards it, putting his arm under her head. Her lips were stone colour, the lids were closed over the eyes; the face was the face of death. In those moments Hamilton realized that his own life was over. Saidie was dead murdered. The world then was simply no more for him. All was finished: he himself was a dead man. Only one thing remained, one duty for him.
"I'll have to throw up the sponge, after all," she said wearily; "it is beyond me. They are right and I was wrong, I must have a rest." Saidie muttered something in reply, but when the door closed upon her sister, she sighed. "She is bad; there is no denying it," remarked the dresser, who was busily stroking out the roses which were to garland Saidie's dress.
He sat musing for a moment, staring with unseeing eyes at the pile of work in front of him. "Saidie, my Saidie! I shall never part from her; therefore I can never part from my happiness." He smiled a little at the play on the words, and then commenced his day's labours. That evening, when he returned, Saidie noticed at once the depression in his usually gay, bright manner.
Saidie stared at her. "Not that I know of why, he would have you to-morrow; you know that as well as I do! you are treating him in a rough way; there's no mistake about it." Bella fell back again relievedly. "Oh, you're talking about Charlie, are you?" she said. "Who should I be talking about? There isn't no one else as wants to make an honest woman of you, is there?"
The young wife felt a little compunction in her heart. "Yes he does." Saidie turned round and faced her sister. "He don't like you to enjoy yourself, not a little bit. He would keep you wrapped up in cotton wool if he could, and if you don't make a stand now, once and for all, and let him see you have a mind of your own and intend to do as you like, you'll regret it to the last day of your life.
"I never knew; I never knew," protested Miss Saidie, going back to her chair beside the hearth. "Brother Bill and he hate each other worse than death, and it was Will's fancy for Mr. Christopher that brought on this awful trouble. For a time, I declare it looked as if the boy was really bewitched, and they were together morning, noon, and night.
"She seems neither better nor worse," said Saidie, meeting him in the little sitting-room and carefully pulling to the door behind her. "She is very, very weak. Is there a chance for her?" "I am afraid to say it depends so much on what recuperative power she has. If the bleeding can be stopped, I shall be more hopeful." "What is she to do, poor Bella?
Gartney, one morning, coming in from his walk to the village post office, to the pleasant sitting room, or morning room, as Mrs. Etherege and Saidie called it, where Faith was helping her sister write a list of the hundreds who were to receive Mr. and Mrs. Selmore's cards "At Home, in September, in Madison Square." "Whom do you think I met in the village, this morning?"
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