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Holt broke the silence. "Surely, Howard," she said, "you're not going to church in those clothes." "I hadn't thought of going to church," replied Mr. Spence, helping himself to cherries. "What do you intend to do?" asked his hostess. "Read the stock reports for the week as soon as the newspapers arrive." "There is no such thing as a Sunday newspaper in my house," said Mrs. Holt.
"Naturally, I should wish to offer her ample remuneration." Again the loose lines of the strange old face seemed to sharpen. There was a growing eagerness in the pale eyes ... but it died. "Even in that case," said Dr. Farr regretfully, "I fear it will be impossible." Spence pressed this particular point no further.
One item alone of news from the outer world, vital to her, had drifted to her retreat. Newspapers filled her with dread, but it was from a newspaper, during the first year of her retirement, that she had learned of the death of Howard Spence. A complication of maladies was mentioned, but the true underlying cause was implied in the article, and this had shocked but not surprised her.
To add to the sergeant's discomfiture, he could not forget that in his admiration for his "chum" he had been unstinting in his praises; for he had a genuine affectionate regard for Spence, as a thoroughly upright young fellow, and a striking contrast to the majority of the Protestants with whom he was daily brought into contact.
Jim began backing off as soon as he had it in his hand, watching Spence alertly. Lambert leaped between them. "Gentlemen, don't go to shootin' over a little thing like this!" he begged. Taterleg came between them, also, and Siwash, quite blocking up the fairway. "Now, boys, put up your guns; this is Sunday, you know," Siwash said. "Give me room, men!"
For the first time since they had been acquainted, they looked into each other's eyes with frank, hearty merriment. Miriam speedily controlled herself, and there came a flush to her cheeks. "You may laugh," said Spence, observing them, "but when did you see two Englishmen abroad who did themselves so much honour?" "True enough," replied Mallard.
Miss Spence even declares that "every Senator elected in this way will represent an equal number of votes, and will rightly have equal weight in the House. According to the block system, there is often a wide disparity between the number of votes for the highest and the lowest man elected."
He felt himself to blame too, for the advice which had thrown Spence directly from the frying-pan of Aunt Caroline into the fire of a sterner fate. Add to all this a keen feeling of unwarranted intrusion and we have some idea of the state of mind with which Dr. John Rogers saw the white tents of the campers as the steamer put in at Friendly Bay.
He was an achievement that civilization had not hitherto produced, a combination of the Beaux Arts and the Jockey Club and American adaptability. He was of those upon whom labour leaves no trace. There were preliminaries, mutually satisfactory. To see Mrs. Spence was never to forget her, but more delicately intimated. He remembered to have caught a glimpse of her at the Quicksands Club, and Mrs.
Mr Spence nodded. He was deeply interested now. The office of confessor is always interesting. "Go on, Sheen. What happened then?" "I was cut by everybody. The fellows thought I had let the house down, and it got about, and the other houses scored off them, so I had rather a rotten time."
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