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They drove in at the lodge-gate of Bellevue House, which was left ostentatiously open, and soon drew up at the hall door, and set many a pale face peeping from the upper windows. The door opened; the respectable servant came out with a respectful air. "Is Mr. Salter at home, sir?" "No, madam. Mr. Coyne is in charge to-day."
It always took my mind off the loneliness, and cheered me up wonderful, especial if I hadded a little red pepper to it," said Salter, getting up from his log of wood and making me a low bow.
Knox Van de Lear, a kiss resounded through the little house, and a woman's voice followed it, saying: "Imprudent!" "Oh, bah!" spoke Calvin Van de Lear. "Salter is deaf as a post. Lottie, Agnes Wilt has been ruined!" In the long pause following this remark the deaf man peeped through his fingers and saw the lady of the house kiss her husband's brother again and again.
"Yes, a boy a little boy such as you teach at school had the strength to break the solid shield of ice under which the river held up the dead and bring the murder out. Do you ever think of that as you hear a spectral river surge and buoy upward, whose waves are made by children's murmurs innocent children haunting the guilty?" "Do you mean me, Mr. Salter? Nothing haunts me but care."
At twenty miles crossed the Douglas, running north through sand hills in a broad valley divided into numerous courses, with dwarf gum-trees, mallee, tea-tree, and numerous other bushes; the bed sandy, and no water. At thirty-five miles struck the lake where the Douglas joins it. There is some water at the mouth of the Douglas, but it is salter than the sea.
"It was truly mother's labor, and ought to have been like Agnes. We will give her a toast." "In nothing but water," spoke Andrew soberly. "I hope I have sown my wild oats." "I will imitate you," heartily responded Duff Salter; "for it occurred to me in Arkansas that people shot and butchered each other so often because they threw into empty stomachs a long tumbler of liquor and leaves.
They did not say a word, but gazed as at a riddle going by. Yet at one place a Sabbath scholar of Agnes came out before her, and, making a courtesy, said: "Teacher, take my orange blossom!" The flower was nearly white, and very fragrant. Duff Salter reached out and put it in his button-hole.
Miss Patch gave her a piece of pretty chintz to hang at the back of her looking-glass, and Tom Salter actually brought her home one day a china vase to stand on her mantelpiece.
It is a grown woman," said Mrs. Flandin; "and she looked like a wild savage. Don't the minister agree with me, that it ain't becomin' for Christian women to do such things?" It was with a smile and a sigh that the minister answered. "Where are you going to draw the line, Mrs. Flandin?" "Well! with what's decent and comfortable." "And pretty?" "La! yes," said Mrs. Salter.
Duff Salter, now full of smiles, proffered a pinch of snuff to his host, who declined it, but set out a bottle of brandy in reciprocal friendship. "Go on," indicated Salter to the tablets. "One morning, just before daybreak, my brother's wife, glancing out of this window " "In this room, you say, before daybreak?" Calvin looked viciously at Duff Salter, who merely smiled.
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