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Conant were very happy. He announced their engagement at the Hotel Orilla del Mar. Eight foreigners and four native Astors pounded his back and shouted insincere congratulations at him. Pedrito, the Castilian-mannered barkeep, was goaded to extra duty until his agility would have turned a Boston cherry-phosphate clerk a pale lilac with envy. They were both very happy.
Obtain your education first, and the money will come by-and-by. As long as you repay the amount, principal and interest, you will have done all that you are in honor bound to do. Squire Conant, as I understand from you, is a rich man, so that he will experience no hardship in waiting." Paul was now solicitous about a place.
"Your people," said the clear voice of Lady Conant in her ear. "I suppose so," said Sophie, blushing, for they were within two yards of her; but it was not a question. "Then that child looks as if it were coming down with mumps. You ought to tell the mother she shouldn't have brought it to church." "I can't leave 'er behind, my lady," the woman said.
The message read: "Colonel Weatherby requests you to keep M. L. in Dorfield until further instructions. Money forwarded. Hot. Caution." It was signed "O. L." and when Mr. Conant showed Mary Louise the message she exclaimed: "Then Mr. O'Gorman was right!" "In what way?" questioned the lawyer.
We must subscribe it; else will the finger of scorn justly be pointed at us forever after." Another round of applause. Mr. Conant, and Mr. Jaswell, the banker, and other prominent members of the Liberty Loan Committee began to look encouraged and to take heart. "Of course they'll subscribe it!" whispered Mary Louise to her friend Alora Jones.
They had taken his honesty for granted and had been hoodwinked by his seeming distress over the condition of his brother's wife. The question was, how soon must she leave the sanitarium and how proceed? Josie's instinct was to go to Dorfield and there get help from Mr. Peter Conant and Chief Charlie Lonsdale.
Tio Pancho, the hotel proprietor, set his great silver-rimmed anteojos upon his nose and divided the papers into a number of smaller rolls. A barefooted muchacho dashed in, desiring the post of messenger. "Bien venido," said Tio Pancho. "This to Senora Conant; that to el Doctor S-S-Schlegel Dios! what a name to say! that to Senor Davis one for Don Alberto.
Lincoln with some other flowers which were to be presented, but which in my confusion I had forgotten. Gentle and genial, simple and warm-hearted, how full of anxiety must have been his life in the days which followed. These words seem to fitly describe him: "A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief." Very sincerely, A.J. Conant, the artist, who in 1860 painted his portrait in Springfield. Mr.
I haven't any blood kin to go to for advice and Danny always says for me to do exactly what I want to do, which is bad for my character. It might make me very conceited to have him always insist that I'm right just because I want to do something." "Well, well! The young rascal is right," laughed Mr. Conant. "But do you think Grandpa Jim would approve of what I am doing?" "Surely he would.
"It is nothing important, Uncle Peter," Irene assured him. "The loss of the book does not worry me at all." Nor did it, for she knew the letter was not in it. And, to avoid further questioning on the part of Mr. Conant, she managed to turn the conversation to less dangerous subjects. Mr.
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