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Updated: June 17, 2025
I murmured it was a pretty fancy. "Some people," replied Miss Sellars, with a giggle, "says it fits me; but, of course, that's only their nonsense." Not knowing what to reply, I remained silent, which appeared to somewhat disappoint Miss Sellars. Out of the Clapham Road we turned into a by-street of two-storeyed houses. "You'll come in and have a bit of supper?" suggested Miss Sellars.
I had heard that exceptionally strong-minded people merely by concentrating their will could make other, ordinary people, do just whatever they, the exceptionally strong-minded people, wished. I willed that Miss Rosina Sellars should turn her eyes again towards me. Victory crowned my efforts. Evidently I was one of these exceptionally strong-minded persons.
Frank Stockton of Bloomington and Miss Florence Wattles of Kokomo were the principal speakers. Miss Clay was made an honorary member. Mrs. Mary P. Flannegan, secretary-treasurer, was the only new officer; new committee chairmen, Mrs. McConnell, Mrs. L. E. Sellars, Mrs. E. B. De Vault, Miss Wattles. The secretary's report showed 28 affiliated societies.
Altogether we must have numbered a score. Breakfast was laid in a large room on the first floor. The wedding presents stood displayed upon a side-table. My own, with my card attached, had not been seen by Mrs. Clapper till that moment. She and her mother lingered, examining it. "Real silver!" I heard the maternal Sellars whisper, "Must have paid a ten pound note for it."
One day a letter was forwarded to me by an editor to whose care it had been addressed. It was a short, formal note from the maternal Sellars, inviting me to the wedding of her daughter with a Mr. Reginald Clapper. I had almost forgotten the incident of the Lady 'Ortensia, but it was not unsatisfactory to learn that it had terminated pleasantly.
Bert was thirteen years old, and it was high time that he began to exercise his own judgment, at least when his own affairs were concerned, so Bert thought. He would like to know what harm his going down to the river for a quiet moonlight swim could possibly do to anybody. He would try it, at all events. Ned Sellars would be there, and Frank Peters.
Miss Sellars, stopping in the act of crossing Newington Butts to shudder at the recollection of her female parent's shame, was nearly run down by a tramcar. Mr. and Mrs. Sellars did not appear to have "hit it off" together. Could one wonder: Mrs. Sellars with an uncle on the Stock Exchange, and Mr. Sellars with one on Peckham Rye?
"Give and take," observed the maternal Sellars, so soon as Mr. Clapper's roar had died away; "that's what you've got to do when you're married." "Give a deal more than you bargained for and take what you don't want that sums it up," came the bitter voice of the unseen. "Oh, do be quiet, Joe," advised the stout young lady, from which I concluded she had once been the lean young lady.
For use in a second floor front he could not honestly recommend the Lady 'Ortensia; it would not be giving her a fair chance, and it would not be giving the second floor a fair chance. But for any gentleman fitting up marble halls, for any one on the lookout for a really "toney article," Jarman would say: Inquire for Miss Rosina Sellars, and see that you get her. There followed my turn.
Sellars' offer had I wished, there being no chair vacant and no room for another. A young man with watery eyes, sitting just behind me between a fat young lady and a lean one, rose and suggested my taking his place. Miss Sellars introduced me to him as her cousin Joseph something or other, and we shook hands.
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