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Updated: June 9, 2025
"I can do it," said Zora, who was in the room. "Do you know how?" asked the dressmaker. "No, but I want to know." Mrs. Vanderpool gave a satisfied nod. "Show her," she said. The dressmaker was on the edge of rebellion. "Zora sews beautifully," added Mrs. Vanderpool. Thus the beautiful cloth came to Zora's room, and was spread in a glossy cloud over her bed.
Look at my cousin, Gus Vanderpool he made Keys twenty years ago and has never done a thing since. And that fat Mr. Hough, who's so rich and dull he's Bones." "You've got statistics at your fingers' ends, haven't you?" said Mrs. Anderson. "Anybody might think you had a brother among the juniors who you weren't hopeful about." She looked at the girl curiously.
After that he would marry some one else, of course; some good and pure woman who would help and uplift and serve him. She had dreamed that she would help unknown, unseen and perhaps she had helped a little through Mrs. Vanderpool. It was all right, and yet why so suddenly had the threads of life let go? Why was she drifting in vast waters; in uncharted wastes of sea?
Vanderpool shoved the man who gave it aside, when he was assailed with a shower of blows and curses. Fearing for his life, he broke through the crowd, and hastened to the spot where the police were standing, wholly powerless in the midst of this vast, excited throng. In the meantime, the flames, unarrested, made rapid way, and communicating to the adjoining building, set it on fire.
The ladies were in the parlor, where the female Easterlys were prostrating themselves before Mrs. Vanderpool. "Just what is your plan?" asked Taylor, quite as if he did not know. "Why, man, the transfer of a hundred millions of stock would give me control of the cotton-mills of America. Think of it! the biggest trust next to steel." "Why not bigger?" asked Taylor, imperturbably puffing away. Mr.
You see, my plan was all so splendid. Just as I turned away from him, back to my people, I was to help him to the highest. I was so afraid he would miss it and think that Right didn't win in Life, that I wrote him " "You wrote him? So did I." Zora glanced at her quickly. "Yes," said Mrs. Vanderpool. "I thought I knew him.
Who was putting her to bed and smoothing the pillow? Who was caring for her, and what was she doing? And Zora strained her eyes Northward through the night. At this moment, Mrs. Vanderpool, rising from a gala dinner in the brilliant drawing-room of her Lake George mansion, was reading the evening paper which her husband had put into her hands.
"No, Zora," she said, "there's something you want more than him and something you can have!" "What?" asked the wondering girl. "His respect," said Sarah Smith, "and I know the Way." Twenty-one Mrs. Vanderpool watched Zora as she came up the path beneath the oaks. "She walks well," she observed. And laying aside her book, she waited with a marked curiosity.
When finally they were settled in New York and sat high up on the Fifth Avenue front of the hotel, gradually the inarticulate questioning found words, albeit strange ones. "It reminds me of the swamp," she said. Mrs. Vanderpool, just returned from a shopping tour, burst into laughter. "It is but I marvel at your penetration." "I mean, it is moving always moving."
"The 'Flitter' is not going to New York just now," answered Brewster firmly, "notwithstanding your ultimatum. She is going to take me to the North Cape." "Now will you be good?" cried Reggie Vanderpool to DeMille as Monty went down the companionway. The remark was precisely what was needed, for the pent-up feelings of the entire company were now poured forth upon the unfortunate young man.
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