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Updated: May 22, 2025
"I'd keep my mind on pleasanter things, Mary." Mary laughed and nodded. "Yes, indeed! Plenty pleasant enough, and probably, if all were known, too good even for me!" And when she had gone Mrs. Vertrees drew a long breath, as if a burden were off her mind, and, smiling, began to undress in a gentle reverie.
"What old lady?" "Mrs. Vertrees. I been waiting for you a long time, and I saw the daughter come out, fifteen minutes ago, and post a letter, and then walk on up the street. Don't stand out on the porch," he said, crossly. "Come in here. There's something it's come time I'll have to talk to you about. Come in!" But as she was moving to obey he glanced across at his father's house and started.
"What about you?" interrupted Mr. Vertrees, turning sharply upon his wife. She made a little face as if positive now that what she had eaten would not agree with her. "I couldn't!" she said. "Yes, that's just just the way she she looked when they asked her!" cried Mary, choking.
Vertrees that neither of them had crossed the threshold since the dark day; but the gas-light, though from a single jet, shed no melancholy upon Bibbs, nor could any room seem bare that knew the glowing presence of Mary. He spoke lightly, not sadly. "Yes, it's come. I've shirked and put off, but I can't shirk and put off any longer. It's really my part to go to him at least it would save my face.
Vertrees followed decorously, no mirth about her; on the contrary, she looked vaguely disturbed, as if she had eaten something not quite certain to agree with her, and regretted it. "Papa! Oh, oh!" And Miss Vertrees was fain to apply a handkerchief upon her eyes. "I'm SO glad you made us go! I wouldn't have missed it " Mrs. Vertrees shook her head. "I suppose I'm very dull," she said, gently.
He would be the more truly his son henceforth, though, as Sheridan said, Bibbs had not come down-town with him meanly or half-heartedly. He had given his word because he had wanted the money, simply, for Mary Vertrees in her need.
Vertrees, because the "traction stock" henceforth was no stock at all, and he had mortgaged his house long ago to help "manage somehow" according to his conception of his "position in life" one of his own old-fashioned phrases. Six months before the completion of the New House next door, Mr.
Mr. Vertrees, having watched their departure with the air of a man who had something at hazard upon the expedition, turned from the window and began to pace the library thoughtfully, pending their return. He was about sixty; a small man, withered and dry and fine, a trim little sketch of an elderly dandy.
"Mary Vertrees had mamma and Sibyl and I to tea, one afternoon two weeks or so ago, and she had some women there that Sibyl's been crazy to get in with, and she just laid herself out to make a hit with 'em, and she's been running after 'em ever since, and now she comes over here and says THEY say Bobby Lamhorn is so bad that, even though they like his family, none of the nice people in town would let him in their houses.
But if WE should should consider it, that wouldn't be on OUR own account. It isn't because we think of ourselves." "Oh God, no!" he groaned. "Not for us! We can go to the poorhouse, but Mary can't be a stenographer!" Sighing, Mrs. Vertrees resumed her obliqueness.
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