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Updated: June 10, 2025
Girls are the helplessest, uselessest, troublesomest little creatures in the world. All they're good for is to torment and pester a fellow." I had to laugh. At this juncture we heard uncle Jay-Jay's voice, so Mr Beecham went towards the back, whence it proceeded, after he left me at the front door. "Oh, auntie, we got on splendidly! He's not a bit of trouble.
Phoebe was not above reading novels or other light literature, but this only in the moments dedicated to amusement, and the present hour was morning, a time not for amusement, but for work. "Phoebe don't know Carlingford, nor the folks there," said Mrs. Beecham, flushed by the thought, and too much excited to think of the elegancies of diction.
Copperhead saw that his remonstrance was unheeded by the young people, he went up to Mrs. Beecham, with a rich man's noble frankness and courage. "I am delighted to see you here, ma'am, and I hope you have remarked how well Miss Phoebe is entertaining my boy. Do you see them dancing? She's been away from you a long time, Mrs. Beecham, as girls will when they get hold of somebody that pleases them.
There was a Mr. Charles, of Floyd County. Isn't that just east of Fleming County!" "No," answered Tom, "Carter County is on our east." He glanced at Miss Marjorie. She was watching him intently, alive to the dangerous ground he was treading. "Ah, yes," answered Mr. Beecham, "so it is so it is. Let me see the geography a moment, dear." Miss Marjorie gave him the book, opened to the map of Kentucky.
The amazing difference which this made in the sentiments of Mrs. Phoebe Beecham, née Tozer, it is quite impossible to describe. Her sudden introduction to "circles" which Mrs. Pigeon had never entered, and to houses at the area-door of which Mr.
Beecham said to her husband; and he shared the feeling, though he could not but think within himself that her aspect was of very much more importance than the appearance of Phoebe Tozer's child could possibly be as his daughter. "You are quite right, my dear," he replied, "vulgar people of that sort are but too ready to look down upon a pastor's family.
"I passed those young ladies just now, and heard some of their conversation, which amused me. Do they belong to our people? If you will not be angry, Miss Beecham, I must say that I should be glad to meet somebody belonging to us, who is not who is more like the people one meets elsewhere."
I could feel my heart grow as bitterly cold as my demeanour was icily stiff, when I stood up and said curtly: "This is a great surprise, Mr Beecham." "Not an unpleasant one, I hope," he said pleasantly. "We will not discuss the matter. Come inside out of the heat." "I'm in no hurry, Syb, and couldn't I help you with that poor little devil?" "I'm only trying to give it another chance of life."
I would not miss the chance for worlds. Why, Beecham Bones is going to be there, the member of Parliament who has just done his four months for inciting to outrage. We are old friends; I was at school with him. Poor fellow, he was mad even in those days, and I want to chaff him." "I think that you had far better not go, Mr. Bingham," said Beatrice; "they are a very rough set."
"I'm not offended," I returned, leading the way to the house, imagining with a keen pain that Harold Beecham must be wondering how for an instant he could have been foolish enough to fancy such an object two years ago. Thank goodness I have never felt any humiliation on account of my mother, and felt none then, as she rose to greet Harold upon my introduction.
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