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Updated: June 24, 2025
'How do I know what he said? says I. 'I wan't there, was I? 'Where was you that forenoon? he says. 'Forenoon! says I, 'that shows how much you know about it. 'Twas three o'clock in the afternoon. Oh, I had the laugh on him!" Dorinda looked at me and shook her head. "It's too bad, Roscoe," she said. "But I was afraid of it as soon as I found he'd sneaked off to the post-office.
Dorinda, her pink and white face framed in its golden halo of curlilocks, her light blue frock, neat and smooth, was calmly and daintily nibbling at a piece of cake, catching the crumbs carefully as they fell. Beside her, Dorothy was rapidly munching her cake as she talked, and letting the crumbs fall where they might.
He had been created the first knight of Acadia; and though this honor came from her king, and his son refused to inherit it after him, Lady Dorinda believed that only the misfortunes of the La Tours had prevented her being a colonial queen. "Our chaplain being absent in the service of Sieur de la Tour," spoke Marie, "will monsieur, in his own fashion, bless this meal?"
I was destined to be detested and misunderstood by both sides. Yes, Dorinda was right in saying that I might find sitting on the fence uncomfortable. It was all of that. I entered the grove and was striding on, head down, busy with these and similar reflections, when some one said: "Good morning, Mr. Paine."
Yet this innocent creature took a pleasure of her own in laying the term like an occasional lash on the woman who so despised her. Le Rossignol sat with arms around her knees, on the hearth corner. Lady Dorinda in her cushioned chair chewed aromatic seeds. The room, like a flower garden, exhaled all its perfumes at evening.
"I'm going up to the village," I told Dorinda, taking my cap from the hook behind the dining-room door. "What for?" asked Dorinda, pushing me to one side and reaching for the dust-cloth, which also was behind the door. "Oh, just for the walk," I answered, carelessly. "Um-hm," observed Dorinda. "Um-hm" is, I believe, good Scotch for "Yes."
Le Rossignol followed these two ladies across the hall, alternately aping the girlish motion of Antonia and her elder's massive progress. She considered the Dutch gentlewoman a sweet interloper who might, on occasions, be pardoned; but Lady Dorinda was the natural antagonist of the dwarf in Fort St. John.
Just talk to hear yourself, I cal'late. What are you grinnin' at, Roscoe?" "I can't imagine, Lute. This clam pie is a triumph. May I have another helping, Dorinda?" Dorinda did not answer, but the second helping was a liberal one. She was so quiet and the glances she gave me from time to time were so odd that I began to feel uneasy.
But I don't know where the money to do it is going to come from." "Shingles for the roof, three," said Dorinda, as if she were carefully jotting down something in a mental memorandum. Yes, yes, you must have them, dearest. It's absolutely necessary. We can wait a year or so for college courses and music lessons to grow; we can set basins under the leaks and borrow some more if we haven't enough.
I forgot dinner entirely and supper was on the table when I returned to the house. I found Dorinda in a condition divided between anxiety and impatience. "Have you seen anything of that man of mine?" she demanded. "I ain't seen hide nor hair of him since I pitched him out of this room this mornin'!" I was surprised and a little disturbed. I remembered Lute's threat about "never seein' me no more."
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