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And to-night there is not only the pretty Miss Higbee, but the winning Miss Bines, whose dot, the baron has been led to understand, would permit his beloved father unlimited piquet at his club, to say nothing of regenerating the family chateau. Yet these are hardly matters to be gossiped of.
" Coplen says she is now calling herself Mrs. Brench Wybert or some such name. I just thought I'd tell you in case you might run acrost her and " "Come along, old chap," urged Milbrey; "Mrs. Wybert will be waiting." His father had started off with Psyche. Mrs. Bines and Mrs. Drelmer were preparing to follow. "I beg your pardon," said Percival, "I didn't quite catch the name." "I say Mrs.
And now, instead of the rude commercial horde that laughed loudly and ate uncouthly at the board of the Barbarian, we shall sit at table with people born to the only manner said to be worth possessing; if we except, indeed, the visiting tribe of Bines, who may be relied upon, however, to behave at least unobtrusively.
Cartwright," he called back to her "oh, beg pardon Bines? yes, yes, to be sure well, never mind, Mrs. Brennings. We'll give you time to put your gloves and a bottle of horse-radish and a nail-file and hammer into that neat travelling-bag of yours. "Now let me go up and get clean again.
"She has money, I believe; he might indeed." "Always money!" he thought; then aloud: "If you find he means to, Miss Milbrey, do anything you can to prevent it. It wouldn't do at all, you know." "Thank you, Mr. Bines; I shall remember." "I I think that's all and I'm sorry we're not our families are not to be friends any more." She smiled rather painfully, with an obvious effort to be conventional.
On the second page of the paper the names in a brief item arrested his errant glance. It disclosed that Mr. Percival Bines had left New York the day before with a party of guests on his special car, to shoot quail in North Carolina. Mr. Milbrey glanced at the two shells of the orange which the butler was then removing.
Now, the moment they get control of the European supply they'll hold the stuff, force up the selling price to awful figures, and squeeze out dividends that will make you wear blue glasses to look at them." "You certainly do know your business, son," said Uncle Peter, fervently. "You certainly got your pa's head on you. You remind me more and more of Dan'l J. Bines every day.
As the train resumed speed after stopping at a station, Grant, the porter, came back to the observation room of the Bines car with a telegram for Uncle Peter. The old man read it and for a time mused himself into seeming oblivion. Across the car, near by, Percival lounged in a wicker arm-chair and stared cheerfully out into the gathering night.
Then came smoke, the smell of scorching linen, and a cry of horror from Celine. "Ah, la seule chemise blanche de Monsieur le Baron!" The spell was broken. Philippe was on his feet, bowing effusively. "Ah! it is Madame Bines. Je suis tres honore I am very honoured to welcome you, madame. It is madame, ma femme, Celine, and Monsieur le Baron de Palliac "
The most promising plan Toler could devise was to wire the superintendent of the "One Girl" Mine at Skiplap. The elder Bines, he knew, had passed through Skiplap about June 1st, and had left, perhaps, some inkling of his proposed route; if it chanced, indeed, that he had taken the trouble to propose one.
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