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Updated: June 11, 2025
Terriberry, but after what had happened could she be sure even of Mrs. Terriberry? Could any inconsequential person like herself be sure of anybody if it conflicted with their interests? It seemed not. She shrank from voicing the thought, but the truth was she dared not put Mrs. Terriberry's friendship to any test.
But instantly ashamed of her weak disloyalty she had declared with a show of spirit, "However, unless Hank says she must go she can stay, for Essie has come pretty close to bein' like my own girl to me." Dr. Harpe had been satisfied to let it rest at that, for she felt sure enough of Terriberry's answer.
She turned to see Mrs. Terriberry, buttoned into her steel-colored bodice and obviously flustered. "Yes?" There was a trace of wonder in her voice. At the sight of the pale face the girl upturned to her, Mrs. Terriberry's courage nearly failed her in the task to which she had nerved herself.
It was some time later that Mrs. Terriberry sailing through the corridor in her dressing-sacque and petticoat, with her feet scuffling in Mr. Terriberry's carpet-slippers, had the stone-china water-pitcher dashed from her hand as she turned a corner. "Why, Essie!" "Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. Terriberry!" "What's the matter?" She looked wonderingly at the girl's crimson face.
Terriberry's plain face in lines of distress. "Essie, Essie, don't feel so bad!" she begged chokingly. The girl's answer was a swift look of bitter reproach. "You can stay here until you find some place that suits you." The girl shook her head. "To-morrow I'll go somewhere."
She had the feeling that it was the climax of her career, that no more satisfying hour could come to her unless perhaps it was the day she married Ogden Van Lennop. And she owed nothing, she thought as she whirled dizzily in Mr. Terriberry's arms, to anyone but herself. Every victory, every step forward since she arrived penniless and unknown in Crowheart had been due to her brains and efforts.
Terriberry's loud whisper was heard the length of the table as she tore the sugar bowl from his hand, but the warning came too late, for Mr. Rhodes already had sweetened his consommé. The guests displayed their tact by assuming a wooden expression, and turning their heads away secretly relieved that they had not committed the faux pas themselves. Only Alva Jackson stared at Mr.
Now my wife," suddenly remembering the existence of that lady Mr. Terriberry tiptoed to the door and endeavored to locate her "my wife," he continued in a confidential whisper, "can't take two drinks t'hout showing it. Doc," Mr. Terriberry's chin quivered as the pathos of the fact swept over him "Doc, Merta's no sport." Mr.
Terriberry, red and flustered, found herself engaged in a wrestling match with little Alva Jackson, which lasted all the way from the door of the dining-room to the long table at the end. Mr. Jackson in his panic was determined to take Mrs. Terriberry's arm, whereas she was equally determined that she would take his, having furtively observed her host gallantly offering support to Mrs. Starr.
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