and Mrs. Gregg so much as hinted that
there ever had been a quarrel.
Then, under cover of the dark, Cyrus stammered:
"Huldah, did ye sense it? Them 'ere words we said at the foot of the
stairs was spoke--exactly--
together!"
"Yes, I know, dear," murmured Huldah, with a little break in her voice.
Then:
"Cyrus, ain't it wonderful--this Thanksgiving, for us?"
Downstairs the Clarks were talking of poor old Mr. and Mrs. Gregg and
their "sad loss;" but the Clarks did not--know.
A New England Idol
The Hapgood twins were born in the great square house that set back from
the road just on the outskirts of Fairtown. Their baby eyes had opened
upon a world of faded portraits and somber haircloth furniture, and
their baby hands had eagerly clutched at crystal pendants on brass
candlesticks gleaming out of the sacred darkness that enveloped the
parlor mantel.
When older grown they had played dolls in the wonderful attic, and made
mud pies in the wilderness of a back yard. The garden had been a
fairyland of delight to their toddling feet, and the apple trees a
fragrant shelter for their first attempts at housekeeping.
From babyhood to girlhood the charm of the old place grew upon them, so
much so that the thought of leaving it for homes of their own became
distasteful to them, and they looked with scant favor upon the
occasional village youths who sauntered up the path presumably on
courtship bent.
Pages:
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229