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Less than, a half o' the population were ordinar' in their girth and stature, ye will understand Howson and Nailor, merchants, five feet nine or thereabouts. He had business with those two, and he stood above them from the six feet threedom o' his height till they went to drink. In the course o' conversation he said, as tall men will, things about his height, and the trouble of it to him.
She assigned the possible cause, though not directly Mrs. Nailor rarely did things directly. She was a small, purring lady, with a tilt of the head, and an insinuating voice of singular clearness, with a question-mark in it. She was of a very good family, lived in a big house on Murray Hill, and had as large a circle of acquaintance as any one in New York.
He had grown more reckless since his return, but it had not injured him with his set. It flattered his pride to be credited with the conquest of so cold and unapproachable a Diana as Louise Wentworth. "What was more natural?" said Mrs. Nailor. After all, Ferdy Wickersham was her real romance, and she was his, notwithstanding all the attentions he had paid Alice Yorke.
Oh, you are too amiable to admit it. I am sure you noticed it, for no one in town has such champagne as you." He licked his lips with reminiscent satisfaction. "No, I assure you, I am not flattering you. One of my cloth! How dare you charge me with it!" he laughed. "I have said as much to Mrs. Yorke. You ask her if I haven't." "How is your uncle's health?" inquired Mrs. Nailor.
When Miss Alice Yorke arrived at the hotel she found her mother and Mrs. Nailor engaged in an animated conversation on the porch. The girl told of the little child she had found crying in the road, and gave a humorous account of the young countryman trying to put her on her horse. "He was very good-looking, too," she declared gayly. "I think he must be studying for the ministry, like Mr.
Nailor smiled amiably. "Perhaps, you will let me go with you sometime?" Alice escaped, and ran up-stairs, though she was eager to go out on the porch. However, it would serve him right to punish him by staying away until she was sent for, and she could not go with Mrs. Nailor's cat-eyes on her. She found her mother seated at a table writing busily. Mrs.
A dispute would have probably ensued, but it was prevented by the spruce toastmaster, who gave a sentiment, and turning to the two politicians, "Pray, gentlemen," said he, "let us have done with these musty politics: I would always leave them to the beer-suckers in Butcher Row. Come, let us have something of the fine arts. That was a damn'd hard match between Joe the Nailor and Tim Bucket.
You need not tell me that he would be so complacent over all that driving and strolling and box-giving that Ferdy does for her if he did not find his divertisement elsewhere." Mrs. Nailor even went to the extent of rallying Ferdy on the subject. "You are a naughty boy.
She glanced about the table. "Oh, yes; there is little Miss Huntington. Miss Huntington, you can stop your ears while I tell it." "Thank you," said Lois, placidly. She leaned a little forward and put her fingers in her ears. A sort of gasp went around the table, and then a shout of laughter, led by Stirling. Mrs. Nailor joined in it, but her face was red and her eyes were angry. Mrs.
I saw her there a little while ago talking with your friend, the young schoolmaster. What a nice young man he is? Quite uncommon, isn't he?" Alice gave a little start. "The young schoolmaster" indeed! "Yes, I suppose so. I don't know." She hated Mrs. Nailor with her quiet, cat-like manner and inquisitive ways.
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