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Updated: June 7, 2025
Now Miss Woodhull's pet economy was lights, and woe betide the luckless inmate of Leslie Manor who needlessly used electricity. The girls often said that if the house ever caught fire Miss Woodhull would pause in rushing from it to switch off any electric bulb left burning.
She dressed as nearly like a man as was compatible with law and decency, wore her hair short, and affected a masculine stride. She came from Miss Woodhull's state. Jefferson drew up his cavalcade of five and awaited the appearance of Miss Stetson whom he despised with all your true negro's power to despise "white folks what doesn't know dey is white." Miss Stetson insisted upon calling him Mr.
She excused her language upon the score of excessive fatigue after so many years of unremitting work. "Unremitting?" Mrs. Bonnell smiled but accepted the apology. Her livelihood depended upon her own work, and she also loved the place and had many friends in that part of the world. But the idea of Miss Woodhull's "arduous work" was certainly amusing.
"And leave your parents?" "How can I look my father in the face every day, knowing what he feels about me? Just now he accuses me of ruining Sam Woodhull's life driving him away, out of the train. But what could I do? Marry him, after all? I can't I can't! I'm glad he's gone, but I don't know why he went." "In my belief you haven't heard or seen the last of Sam Woodhull yet," mused her mother.
Then in a flash all the fighting blood of the Ashbys and Seldons boiled, and with a cry of outraged feelings Beverly Ashby laid hold of Miss Woodhull's flabby arms with a pair of slender muscular hands, backed her by main force against the chair which she had so hastily vacated, and plumped that dumbfounded lady down upon it with a force which made her teeth crack together, as she cried indignantly: "How dare you touch me!
Her teeth came together upon her eclair and the filling escaped its bounds, landing in many places that it should not have landed. When Miss Stetson had removed about a tablespoonful of cream filling from her bosom, she said icily: "Miss Ashby, you are to report at Miss Woodhull's study at once," and utterly ignored Beverly's apologies. "Report at Miss Woodhull's office at nine-thirty at night?"
Woodhull's seconds saw the look of pain come on his face, saw him wince, saw him writhe, saw him rise on his toes. Then, with a sudden squatting heave, Banion cast him full length in front of him, upon his back! Before he had time to move he was upon him, pinning him down. A growl came from six observers. In an ordinary fall a man might have turned, might have escaped.
As they came down the steps from Miss Woodhull's office, said office, by-the-by, being in the wing in which the recitation rooms were situated and quite separate from the main building, Sally's eyes were snapping, and her head wagging ominously; Aileen's cheeks were even a deeper tint than they ordinarily were, and her head was held a little higher.
Miss Woodhull's first concern had been "to make the place sanitary," the last word spelled with italics, and to this end modern improvements and conveniences had supplanted the old, easy-going expedients of domestic economy. Everything in Leslie Manor became strictly modern and up-to-date.
And thus stood affairs that Sunday evening after Beverly's flight, and then from a source least expected Bomb Number 1 was hurled. All day long Electra Sanderson had been strangely silent. At eight o'clock she marched down to Miss Woodhull's study, rapped upon the door, and was bidden enter. That lady sat with her hand upon the telephone receiver, about to remove it.
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