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Updated: June 22, 2025
Rasselyer-Brown had had to attend that evening, at the Mausoleum Club, a meeting of the trustees of the Church of St. Asaph, and he had come home at eleven o'clock, as he always did after diocesan work of this sort, quite used up; in fact, so fatigued that he had gone upstairs to his own suite of rooms sideways, his knees bending under him.
Just where I happen to be, Rome, Warsaw, Bucharest, anywhere" and it is to be noted what fine places these are to happen to be. And to think that Mr. Rasselyer-Brown would never put his foot outside of the United States! Whereas Mr. Rasselyer-Brown would feel faint with despair at the nonentity of her husband. So one can understand how heavy her burden was. Rasselyer-Brown did anything.
But after all, a woman may find herself again in her daughter. There, at least, is consolation. For, as Mrs. Rasselyer-Brown herself admitted, her daughter, Dulphemia, was herself again. There were, of course, differences, certain differences of face and appearance. Mr.
Yet, oddly enough, the opinion of other people on this new chauffeur, that of Miss Dulphemia Rasselyer-Brown herself, for example, to whose service he was specially attached, was very different.
But he does nothing. Every morning after breakfast off to his wretched office, and never back till dinner, and in the evening nothing but his club, or some business meeting. One would think he would have more ambition. How I wish I had been a man." It was certainly a shame. So it came that, in almost everything she undertook Mrs. Rasselyer-Brown had to act without the least help from her husband.
It was astonishing in fact how rapidly the light spread. "Is Rasselyer-Brown with us?" asked someone of Mr. Fyshe a few days later. "Heart and soul," answered Mr. Fyshe. "He's very bitter over the way these rascals have been plundering the city on its coal supply. He says that the city has been buying coal wholesale at the pit mouth at three fifty utterly worthless stuff, he tells me.
"It's an Indian rite," whispered Mrs. Rasselyer-Brown. Mr. Yahi-Bahi could be seen dimly moving to and fro in front of the sideboard. There was a faint clinking of glass. "He has to set out a glass of Burmese brandy, powdered over with nutmeg and aromatics," whispered Mrs. Rasselyer-Brown. "I had the greatest hunt to get it all for him.
"The police!" cried everybody. "Hush it up! Hush it up!" For of course the principles of Bahee are not known to the police. In another moment the doorbell of the house rang with a long and violent peal, and in a second as it seemed, the whole hall was filled with bulky figures uniformed in blue. "It's all right, Mrs. Rasselyer-Brown," cried a loud, firm voice from the sidewalk. "We have them both.
Rasselyer-Brown that he understood that his house was cinquecentisti, he answered that he guessed it was. After which remark and an interval of silence, Mr. Rasselyer-Brown would probably ask the guest if he was dry. So from that one can tell exactly the sort of people the Rasselyer-Browns were. In other words, Mr. Rasselyer-Brown was a severe handicap to Mrs. Rasselyer-Brown.
"But come," said Mr. Newberry, after he had finished adjusting the gravel with his foot, "there are Mrs. Newberry and the girls on the verandah. Let's go and join them." A few minutes later Mr. Spillikins was talking with Mrs. Newberry and Dulphemia Rasselyer-Brown, and telling Mrs. Newberry what a beautiful house she had.
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