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Updated: June 9, 2025
He was subject to the unobservant man's acute flashes of vision, and Mrs. Westmore's beauty was like a blinding light abruptly turned on eyes subdued to obscurity. As he spoke, his glance passed from her face to her hair, and remained caught in its meshes.
"I think," the latter said, as their eyes met, "that you had better let me dismiss the hands: they have only an hour at midday." She signed her assent, and he turned to the operatives and said quietly: "You have heard Mrs. Westmore's promise; now take yourselves off, and give her a clear way to the stairs." They dropped back, and Mr.
Was it symbolic to-night, the swan-song of the romance of Alice Westmore's life, begun under those very trees so many summers ago? They stopped at the gate. Richard Travis lit a cigar before mounting his horse. He seemed at times to-night restless, yet always determined. She had never seen him so nearly preoccupied as he had been once or twice to-night.
"Yes; and quieter." For a few yards they walked on in silence, their long steps falling naturally into time, though Amherst was somewhat taller than his companion. At length he said: "I suppose you know nothing about the relation between Hope Hospital and the Westmore Mills." "Only that the hospital was endowed by one of the Westmore family." "Yes; an old Miss Hope, a great-aunt of Westmore's.
"There is no question of criticizing Mrs. Westmore's dealings with her operatives as far as I know, she has had none as yet," he rejoined, unable to control his voice as completely as his hand. "And the proof of it is the impunity with which her agents deceive her in this case, for instance, of Dillon's injury. Dr. Disbrow, who is Mr.
Westmore's course had served as a corrective for his lack of experience; she had even, as it appeared, been at some pains to hasten the process of disillusionment. This timely discipline left him blushing at his own insincerity; for he now saw that he had risked his future not because of his zeal for the welfare of the mill-hands, but because Mrs.
She was the ringleader in all our mischief I never saw any one so quick and clever. I suppose her fun is all gone now." For a moment Mrs. Westmore's mind continued to linger among her memories; then she reverted to the question of the Dillons, and of what might best be done for them if Miss Brent's fears should be realized.
That he would make Alice happy she did not doubt; for Mrs. Westmore's idea of happiness was in having wealth and position and a splendid name. Having no real heart, how was it possible for her to know, as Alice could know, the happiness of love? An eyeless fish in the river of Mammoth Cave might as well try to understand what light meant.
Westmore's Christmas visitation an athletic club had been formed, and leave obtained to use the Hopewood grounds for Saturday afternoon sports; and thither Amherst continued to conduct the boys after the mills closed at the week-end. His last Saturday had now come: a shining afternoon of late February, with a red sunset bending above frozen river and slopes of unruffled snow.
She was not used to such a beautiful woman holding her so proud and fine from a world that she knew was not her world. "May I give you some nourishment now, Maggie?" The girl shook her head. "No no Miss Alice," and then she smiled so brightly and cheerfully that the little one in Alice Westmore's arms clapped her hands and laughed: "Little mother be up, well, to-morrow."
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