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Updated: June 24, 2025
Behind them the voice continued: "They say Porteous will peg the market at twenty-six." "Well he ought to. Corn is worth that." "Never saw such a call for margins in my life. Some of the houses called eight cents." Wessels: "By the way, Aunt Wess'; look at that man there by the box office window, the one with his back towards us, the one with his hands in his overcoat pockets. Isn't that Mr.
Aunt Wess' flounced back in her seat, exasperated, out of sorts. "Well, my word," she murmured to herself, "I never saw such girls." Isabel Gretry's hiccoughs drove Aunt Wess' into "the fidgets." They "got on her nerves." Cressler, then Laura, then Jadwin and Cressler, and then, robed in billowing white, venerable, his prayer book in his hand, the bishop of the diocese himself.
The mother of those girls never smiled once since that day, and her hair turned snow white. That was in 'seventy-nine. I remember it perfectly. The boat's name was 'Fanchon." "But that was a sail boat, Aunt Wess'," objected Laura. "Ours is a steam yacht. There's all the difference in the world."
It annoyed Aunt Wess'. Excited, aroused, the little old lady was never more in need of a listener. "And Laura's new frock," she whispered, vaguely. "It's going to be ruined." To pass the time Aunt Wess' began counting the pews, missing a number here and there, confusing herself, always obliged to begin over again. From the direction of the vestry room came the sound of a closing door.
Landry Court told me all about it. Mr. Helmick had a corner in corn, and he failed to-day, or will fail soon, or something." But Laura, preoccupied with looking for the Cresslers, hardly listened. Aunt Wess', whose count was confused by all these figures murmured just behind her, began over again, her lips silently forming the words, "sixty-one, sixty-two, and two is sixty-four."
While she did so, Aunt Wess' remarked, with the alacrity of a woman who observes the difficulties of a proceeding in which she has no faith: "I don't believe that hired girl knows her business. She says now she can't light a fire in that stove. My word, Laura, I do believe you'll have enough of all this before you're done. You know I advised you from the very first to take a flat."
Dearborn himself had a sister a twin of Aunt Wess' who had married a wealthy woollen merchant of Boston, and this one, long since, had provided for the two girls. A large sum had been set aside, which was to be made over to them when the father died. For years now this sum had been accumulating interest.
Cressler or Aunt Wess' or Mrs. Gretry, and carried them off to some exhibit of painting, or flowers, or more rarely for she had not the least interest in social affairs to teas or receptions. But in the evenings, after dinner, she had her husband to herself. His tastes in fiction were very positive. Laura at first had tried to introduce him to her beloved Meredith.
"But I wouldn't think of those things so much, Laura," answered Aunt Wess', rather seriously. "Child, you are not marrying him for carriages and organs and saddle horses and such. You're marrying this Mr. Jadwin because you love him. Aren't you?" "Oh," cried Laura, "I would marry a ragamuffin if he gave me all these things gave them to me because he loved me." Aunt Wess' stared.
And Wess had a fireman that could fiddle off old 'Natchez' in a way that would just make a corpse dance till its teeth rattled, and that fireman would always be called in just as we'd got to the place where you can't tell what sort of whisky 'tis you're drinking; and I tell you, 'twas so heavenly that a fellow could forgive the last boat that beat him on the river, or stole a landing from him.
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