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Updated: June 16, 2025
He had spent the long hours in the train in fruitless broodings on a discouraging situation, and he remembered how his bitterness had turned to exasperation when he found that the Weymore sleigh was not awaiting him. It was absurd, of course; but, though he had joked with Rainer over Mrs. Culme's forgetfulness, to confess it had cost a pang.
It was clear that the sleigh from Weymore had not come; and the shivering young traveller from Boston, who had so confidently counted on jumping into it when he left the train at Northridge Junction, found himself standing alone on the open platform, exposed to the full assault of nightfall and winter. The blast that swept him came off New Hampshire snow fields and ice-hung forests.
"I should like to telephone to Weymore," he said with dry lips. "Sorry, sir; wires all down. We've been trying the last hour to get New York again for Mr. Lavington." Faxon shot on to his room, burst into it, and bolted the door. The mild lamplight lay on furniture, flowers, books, in the ashes a log still glimmered. He dropped down on the sofa and hid his face.
"I should like to telephone to Weymore," he said with dry lips. "Sorry, sir; wires all down. We've been trying the last hour to get New York again for Mr. Lavington." Faxon shot on to his room, burst into it, and bolted the door. The lamplight lay on furniture, flowers, books; in the ashes a log still glimmered. He dropped down on the sofa and hid his face.
Two sleighs were just dashing up to the station, and from the foremost there sprang a young man muffled in furs. "Weymore? No, these are not the Weymore sleighs." The voice was that of the youth who had jumped to the platform a voice so agreeable that, in spite of the words, it fell consolingly on Faxon's ears.
Other building there was none: the village lay far down the road, and thither since the Weymore sleigh had not come Faxon saw himself under the necessity of plodding through several feet of snow. He understood well enough what had happened: his hostess had forgotten that he was coming.
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