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Updated: May 22, 2025
"I'll telephone to Wassumsic right away and don't you worry," she begged of him, "they'll get along somehow or other." "They'll have to," the guardian growled, between groans. But before Miss Effie could telephone, Robin's telegram came. Cornelius Allendyce opened it with indifferent fingers, read it, then rose upright with such suddenness that a loud cry of pain burst from him.
Budge in line, Tubbs would go light with the school work he had certainly made a point of that, and, when he could run up to Wassumsic again, he'd look over this little companion Robin had adopted. Upon this train of pleasant contemplation, enjoyed at intervals in his work, Robin's letter, written a few days after her dinner at Mrs. Lynch's, fell like a bomb. "DEAR GUARDIAN," she had begun,
The Forsyth Mills had built Wassumsic in truth, Wassumsic was the Forsyth's Mills. It had had its beginning in that first small mill where the first Forsyth worked in his shirt-sleeves; a cluster of houses had sprung up close to the river, a store, more houses, more stores, a tavern, a church, a school. And as the Mills grew, so grew the village.
"Mother says that what Wassumsic ought to have is a clubhouse like Miss Lewis' place in New York. Mother took care of that, you know. Miss Lewis is a wonder. She always declared children need fun just the way they need milk and she fixed it so that they got both." "Oh, yes, there are ever so many boys and girls in Wassumsic only they're mostly working in the Mills.
When she's a bit older things will ease up." Robin remembered what Beryl had said of the girls in Wassumsic having nothing else to do but go into the Mills. Susy would grow older and take Sarah's place. But what if she didn't want to? What happened to the "big girls" who didn't want to go into the Mills? Robin could hear Beryl's contemptuous: "Why they haven't a chance in the world."
It felt real but it just couldn't be true "Now where, my dear? You ought to make this day one you'll never forget." "Don't I have to go right back to Wassumsic? Oh, then then can I go to see Jacques Henri and tell him? I know the way I can take the Ninth Avenue Elevated or Would it be very foolish if I took a taxi?" Beryl colored furiously. "Not at all, Miss Beryl, not at all.
Every moment of that day something exciting and significant seemed to happen. Ever so many people called, and it was fun to see their surprise at finding Madame home. And she hadn't said Susy would have to go! Then Robin flew off, the very first moment, with Beryl to find Mrs. Lynch and hug her over the wonderful fortune and talk about the farm which must be very near Wassumsic.
He would love Wassumsic, she knew but, oh, he would hate the Mills.
Thinking of Dale brought her thoughts back to the Mills so that while Beryl snuggled her sleepy head back into her pillow, she stared at the thin shaft of light that shone under the door and wished she was big instead of "a little bit of a thing" and very wise so that she would know what to do to show these people in Wassumsic that she a Forsyth, did care.
It struck me, as I looked at her, that her coming to Wassumsic to the Manor, might change things, here, quite a bit." "It has it will," mumbled Mr. Allendyce. For a moment, just to relieve his feelings, he wondered if he might not confide in this very human man the ordeal he must face with Madame Forsyth when his reckoning came. "My wife is prostrated with it all.
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