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Updated: June 4, 2025
"But," said I, "you got my letters from the other side. Didn't that assure you that you might have faith in me?" "But I would not receive them. Aunt Sloman has them all, done up and labeled for you, doubtless. She, it seems had you talked her over? thought I ought to have gone with you, and fretted because she was keeping me. Then I couldn't bear it another day.
Judge Hubbard was a friend of my father's, and would approve of me, I thought, if he did not agree at once to the hurried marriage and ocean journey. "What an unconscionable time it takes her! Don't you think so, Mrs. Sloman?" I said at last, after I had gone through three several papers on subjects unknown. I suppose it was scarcely a courteous speech. But Mrs.
Not the dramatic abnegation indicated by the black dress, but the quiet harmony of a life atune. Mrs. Sloman was ready even before Bessie came down. She was a great invalid, although her prim and rigid countenance forbore any expression save of severity. She had no pathos about her, not a touch.
"No," I said, closing the discussion after an old fashion of the Sloman cottage, "not until we two walk together to the Ledge to-morrow, my little wife and I." "Where's a card your card, Charlie? It would be more proper-like, as Mrs. Splinter would say, for you to write it." "I will try," I said, taking out a card-case from my breast-pocket.
I explained as collectedly as possible that I wanted the address of one of his patients, a dear old friend of mine, whom I had missed as she passed through New York, and that, as I was about to sail for Europe in a few days, I had rushed over to bid her good-bye. "Mrs. Antoinette Sloman, it is, doctor."
One mad impulse seized me to go out under her window and call to her, asking her to come down. But Lenox nights were very still, and the near neighbors on either side doubtless wide awake to all that was going on around the Sloman cottage.
It was a deep wound, and she shrank from any talk about it. I had to be very gentle and tender before she would listen to me at all. But there was something else at work against me what was it? something that I could neither see nor divine. And it was not altogether made up of Aunt Sloman, I was sure. "I cannot leave her now, Charlie. Dr.
My train starts at nine to-morrow morning, but you will be ready will you not? at six to take a morning walk with me. I will be here at that hour. You don't know how disturbed and anxious I shall be till then." Morning came or rather the long night came to an end at last and at twenty minutes before six I opened the gate at the Sloman cottage.
It was so late in September that the morning was a little hazy and uncertain. And yet the air was warm and soft a perfect reflex, I thought, of Bessie last night an electric softness under a brooding cloud. The little house lay wrapped in slumber. I hesitated to pull the bell: no, it would startle Mrs. Sloman. Bessie was coming: she would surely not make me wait.
Why should I be glad?" "Are you sorry, then?" If I had but followed my impulse then, and said frankly that I was, and why I was! But Mrs. Sloman was coming through the little hall: I heard her step. Small time for explanation, no time for reproaches. And I could not leave Bessie, on that morning of all others, hurt or angry, or only half convinced.
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