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Updated: May 27, 2025
I didn't know the old man had complained of Mary Rose. Of Mary Rose!" he repeated, as if he could not understand how anyone could complain of Mary Rose. Mary Rose had been a joy to him ever since he had looked up from his car and seen her standing there in the boys' blue serge and with George Washington in her arms. Miss Thorley nodded. "I'd hate to think what this house would be without her.
"Take it from me, Mary Rose, that Independence is an old witch, and she's enchanted more girls than you could count." Mary Rose looked doubtful. "If Miss Thorley really is enchanted," she suggested, "we must find something to break the spell. I told her she wouldn't have to stop work to make a home for a family, Mr. Jerry," she whispered encouragingly. "Did you?" Mr. Jerry laughed.
Would you Oh, would you! come across the alley and see him in his boarding house? You know he's only a cat," she explained slowly as if she were afraid that Miss Thorley might expect to find George Washington something more. "But he's wonderful just the same. He earns his own board, every single drop. Mr. Jerry's Aunt Mary said so."
Jerry emphatically, although Miss Thorley exclaimed hurriedly that she could take care of herself. He found a bench from which they could watch Mary Rose as she made the black pony happy and rode around the ring, prouder than any peacock. "Funny kid, isn't she?" remarked Mr. Jerry, realizing that if there was to be any conversation between them he would have to begin.
For the first time he perceived how elementary his own principles had always been. He passed for a young man who had not been afraid of risks, and he knew that his secret love-affair with poor silly Mrs. Thorley Rushworth had not been too secret to invest him with a becoming air of adventure. But Mrs.
"Yes," he said, looking rather surprised, "you spoke as if you knew her. Did you ever see Mrs. Bundlecombe?" "I I had heard her name." "At Angleford? Or Thorley?" "Of course, I heard of Mr. Bundlecombe there." "Is it not strange," Alan said, after a short pause, "that I never knew you came from Angleford until that morning when I brought you one of your father's books?
My ol' father used to say you robbed the ol' when you took pleasures from the young an', seems if, that's gospel true, too. Land, if I hadn't had good times when I was a girl to remember sometimes I'd go crazy. Layin' up pleasant memories is what everyone can do an' it means as much as money in the bank. This is pretty lace on your waist, Miss Thorley. I dunno as I ever saw just this pattern."
"I say, Fred Thorley, ain't it bang up?" remarked a sturdy little man, through a huge slice of cake, with which he had just filled his mouth. "Fuss-rate!" responded Fred, as he finished a cup of coffee at a draught and called for more. "Didn't I tell you, Sam, that you'd like it better than the native grog-shops?" "If they'd on'y got bitter beer!" sighed Sam.
Miss Thorley looked also. The street car was not so inviting as the automobile. Prejudiced as she was she had to admit that. She laughed. "Oh, very well," she said. Mr. Jerry jumped out and triumphantly robbed the street car company of a fare. He helped Miss Thorley in beside Mary Rose and Jenny Lind. "You see there's lots of room," Mary Rose fairly bubbled with joy. "Just as Mr. Jerry said.
Angleford, a mere handful of red-brick cottages, five miles from a railway station, was little known to the outer world. Its nearest market-town was Dorminster, and the village of Thorley lay between Angleford and the county town.
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