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Updated: June 11, 2025
Rhodes's embarrassment in unconcealed delight. "Let Essie bring you another cup," suggested Mr. Symes. "Oh, no! not at all; I take sweetenin' in everything," declared Mr. Rhodes. There was a distinct relaxation of tension all around when Andy P. Symes took the initiative in the matter of spoons. "This here soup makes me think of the time I had mountain fever and et it stiddy for three weeks."
A session with a hair-dresser had not been wasted, for she had learned to dress her hair in the prevailing mode. Symes had lost no time in rushing her to an establishment where the brown cashmere basque and many gored skirt had been exchanged for a gown of fashionable cut.
Susie said nothing more. All the girls were dull, grave, distressed. The twins were nowhere to be seen. Betty's sweet face, Betty's sparkling eyes, Betty's gay laugh, were conspicuous by their absence. Miss Symes did not appear at all. When breakfast was over, and the brief morning prayers had been gone through by Mr. Fairfax for these prayers were not said in the chapel Mrs.
Symes imagined that he could almost see himself growing old in the hours of suspense which followed the sending of the telegram. Symes's hand shook noticeably when he took the yellow sheet from the operator who delivered it in person. The message read: Turned down cold. Something wrong. Letter follows. Symes's towering figure seemed to crumple in the office chair.
They make me think of a pack of wolves that's got a weak one down; he's outnumbered and can't fight back, so jump him! tear him! They're roarin' at me to 'do somethin' Tinhorn Frank, Symes, Parrott, the whole outfit of 'em. Say, Dago, I wasn't raised to fight women." "Does your chivalry extend to the lady doc?"
Do your utmost, for the situation is growing critical here desperate, in fact." And desperate was the word when Symes contemplated going into his own pocket for money to make up the deficit money which he had told himself he would salt away against that rainy day with which he had become all too familiar.
Emma, will you ask Betty to come to me here? If she resists, bring her, dear; if she still resists, I will go to her. Dear Mr. Fairfax, we must pray for this child. There is something very seriously wrong; but she has won my heart, and I cannot give her up. Will you leave me also, dear friend, for I must see Betty by herself?" Miss Symes immediately left the room.
"Who'd she say it about?" "Promise me that this won't go no further hope to die? but to tell the truth we was speakin' of Essie Tisdale." Mrs. Tutts looked mystified. "What's she done?" In unconscious imitation of Mrs. Symes, Mrs. Jackson curled her little finger and smiled a slow, deprecating smile "You see she works out she's really a servant." Mrs. Tutts nodded in entire comprehension.
"I can't say when I've et a cantelope but, Oh Lord, I has a hankerin' for eggs! I tell Jackson the next time he ships he's gotta take me along, for I want to git out where I can git my mitt on a pair of eggs." "We became quite surfeited with eggs, Phidias and I," observed Mrs. Symes with an air of ennui. Mrs. Jackson blinked.
"Look out, Andy P., you'll make a mistake if you try in that way. You might have done it in the beginnin' or when I first warned you; but Augusta's like putty in her hands now. She don't seem to have any will of her own or gratitude or affection. I'm tellin' you straight, Andy P." Symes considered. "There is a way, if I could bring myself to do it." "What's that?" "Make Augusta jealous.
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