United States or Spain ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
In this way they at last reached the clearing in the forest, the church with its ostentatious spire, and the Reverend Mr. Windibrook's dwelling, otherwise humorously known as "The Pastorage," where Cissy intended to call. The Reverend Mr. Windibrook had been selected by his ecclesiastical superiors to minister to the spiritual wants of Canada City as being what was called a "hearty" man.
Windibrook harshly, dropping his heartiness and his handkerchief in a burst of unguarded temper. "Your papa is a thief escaping from justice, you foolish girl; a disgraced felon, who dare not show his face again in Canada City; and you are lucky, yes! lucky, miss, if you do not share his disgrace!"
She was quick enough to detect the suggestion of moral superiority in his tone, but woman enough to forgive it. "You're no friend of Windibrook," she said, "I know." "I am not," he replied frankly. "If you would like to see my popper, I can manage it," she said hesitatingly. "He'll do anything for me," she added, with a touch of her old pride. "Who could blame him?" returned Masterton gravely.
Windibrook, and a playful push. "YOU don't know? Ha, but I do. Yes, sir," to the visitor, "I have reason to remember it. I called upon him the next day. I used, sir, the freedom of an old friend. 'Trixit, I said, clapping my hand on his shoulder, 'the Lord has been good to you. I congratulate you. "'H'm! he said, without looking up. 'What do you reckon those congratulations are worth?
"I suppose, dear, you are dreadfully anxious about your father when he is away from home?" she said to Cissy, with a sympathetic sigh. Cissy, conscious of never having felt a moment's anxiety, and accustomed to his absences, replied naively, "Why?" "Oh," responded Mrs. Windibrook, "on account of his great business responsibilities, you know; so much depends upon him."
Windibrook promptly retreated through the door and down the steps into the garden, at which the stranger on the veranda reluctantly tore himself away from the landscape and slowly entered the parlor through the open French window. Here, however, he became equally absorbed and abstracted in the condition of his beard, carefully stroking his shaven cheek and lips and pulling his goatee.
Windibrook knew he was the son of Judge Masterton and had rich relations, he wished, of course, to be civil, but somehow young Masterton and he didn't 'hit off. Indeed, Mr.
Windibrook had gone out with his visitor, and Cissy was spared the advertisement of a boisterous escort home, which he generally insisted upon. She gayly took leave of the infant Windibrook and his mother, sallied out into the empty road, and once more became conscious of her new hat.
Windibrook," continued the reverend gentleman in his highest, heartiest voice, albeit a little hurried, "wished me to say to you that until you heard from your friends she wanted you to come and stay with her. DO come! Cissy, with her bright eyes fixed upon her visitor, said, "I shall stay here." "But," said Mr. Windibrook impatiently, "you cannot.
Windibrook, recalled to an attempt at dignity, took up his hat and handkerchief. "When you have remembered yourself and your position, Miss Trixit," he said loftily, "the offer I have made you" "I despise it! I'd sooner stay in the woods with the grizzlies and rattlesnakes?" said Cissy pantingly. "Go and leave me alone! Do you hear?" She stamped her little foot. "Are you listening? Go!" Mr.
Word Of The Day