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Updated: May 29, 2025
Now she resisted no longer. She had not met Allan Whittredge face to face before for six years, although since his father's death he had been frequently in Friendship. She had known it must happen sometime, and had schooled herself to think it would mean nothing to her, but instead it had brought back a host of vain regrets. She had been happier of late.
It was certainly naughty of her to run away," Genevieve remarked, after Rosalind, worn out by the conflicting experiences of the day, had gone to bed. Mrs. Whittredge did not reply at once. On her lap lay her granddaughter's little volume of "As You Like It," and she had been reading the words about the Forest. It had a way of opening to that page.
"It will not take more than twenty minutes to walk out," he remarked, at length, when the hands pointed to seven o'clock. Mrs. Whittredge looked inquiring. "We are to have a little moonlight party at the creek to-night. We shall not be late, Rosalind and I," Allan added. "You are making a new departure, are you not? A picnic yesterday, another to-night.
Whittredge of Tiverton. In his religious faith he belonged to us, and occasionally came over to attend our church. I used, from time to time, to pay him visits of a day or two, always made pleasant by the placid and gentle presence of his wife, and by the brisk and eager conversation of the old gentleman.
The pictures of George Inness, Sanford Gifford, Kensett, McEntee, Hart, Eastman Johnson, Hubbard, Church, Casilaer, Whittredge, and the others had been frequently discussed around the piano on the top floor at Miss Teetum's, and their merits and supposed demerits often hotly contested. He had met Kensett once at the house of Mr.
I am astonished at you. The only decent thing you have!" Mrs. Parton sat down and clasped her hands in an attitude of desperation. Followed by the kitten, Belle departed, returning directly with the blue and white checked silk over her arm. "Whatever it is," her mother continued, I want you to look nice; Betty says Rosalind Whittredge has beautiful clothes."
Celia was silent for a moment, then she said, "Belle, it seems to me the only thing for you to do is to tell Mr. Whittredge. The ring belongs to him; he will know what to do far better than we, and he will think of Morgan, too." "I would have told him, but he has gone away." "Gone?" Belle wondered a little at Miss Celia's tone; it was as if she cared a great deal.
She was not sure it at all concerned this stranger to know her name, but as he stood smiling and waiting, she did not know how to refuse; so she bent over the tablet, her yellow braid falling over her shoulder, as she wrote, "Rosalind Patterson Whittredge." "Mr. Pat's daughter?" There was a twinkle in the old man's eye, and surprise and delight in his voice.
In consequence of this conservatism Friendship one day awoke in the fashion. There were fine old homes in Friendship which in their soft-toned browns and grays seemed as much a part of the landscape as the forest trees that surrounded them and shaded the broad street. Associated with these mansions were names dignified and substantial, such as Molesworth, Parton, Gilpin, Whittredge.
Want of space must for the present prevent any description of the fine works exhibited; suffice it to say that the Committee Whittredge, McEntee, Thompson, as well as Gifford, Eastman Johnson, Bierstadt, Beard, the Weirs, Hazeltine, William Hart, Dana, Leutze, Gignoux, Shattuck, Brown, Suydam, etc., were all worthily represented. New York has reason to be proud of her artists.
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