Mrs. Radigan: Her Biography, with that of Miss Pearl Veal, and the Memoirs of J. Madison MudisonLloyd, Nelson
General
Mrs. Radigan: Her Biography, with that of Miss Pearl Veal, and the Memoirs of J. Madison Mudison
Lloyd, Nelson
New York (N.Y.) -- Fiction; Satire; Social classes -- Fiction; Women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction
"The question is not one which allows any argument at all, Mrs.
Stranahan," said the solicitor. "We threshed it all over in England,
long ago, and decided it."
Then it was that Mrs. Radigan began to sympathize with him about the
hardships of his visit, and learned how the Zulu campaign had hardened
him for it. Then it was that Mrs. Radigan broached her plan for another
week-end at Westbury and secured his consent to come, though she had
discreetly promised not to show him anything, feeling, perhaps, that
there was nothing for such a man to see. Then it was that Sir Charles
graciously admitted that there was one thing in this country to see,
and announced his intention of honoring it with a look.
"While my visit to America is purely connected with matters of
business," he said, "I am going to make use of an opportunity to view
Niagara. I think I shall run out and back to-morrow. Possibly I shall
take an extra day and have a look at the Yellowstone Park, which I am
told in its way quite equals anything we have in England."
Now, it happened that Sir Charles Wigge was unable to work in that
extra day to visit the Yellowstone, as he was longer than he had
expected on his visit to Niagara, so Friday evening found us gathered
again around the board at Westbury, except Ethel Bumpschus, whose
absence I regarded as an ill-omen, one that presaged a defeat for her
and thus for me. His Grace was still a guest at the Bumpschus house,
but of late he had been spending all his afternoons and evenings with
the Radigans, not even the attentions of Prince Cosmospopolis of
Greece to his host's daughter serving to arouse him to action in that
quarter. Ethel was asked, I know, but she sent a polite but stiff note
of regret, whereupon Mrs. Radigan telephoned for Marian Speechless,
who came in a rush and made a vigorous attack on the Duke, talking him
almost to death. Perhaps Marian had dreams, but they could never be
more than dreams, as she has nothing but ancestry and charm. I thought,
perhaps, she would be able to do something with Sir Charles Wigge,
she is such a voluble person, so I carefully arranged a meeting after
dinner, when Mrs. Radigan had his Grace at her side and was drawing out
his ideas on the ginger-beer evil, the only subject on which he talks
complete sentences.
"I am so glad to have an opportunity to meet you," Marian gasped, while
Sir Charles polished his monocle. "There are so many things about which
I want to ask you."
"And I, for my part, shall be delighted to answer any questions you
care to put," returned Sir Charles gallantly, "but Miss Peaches----"
"Miss Speechless," I corrected gently.
"Impossible," said he. "It must have been Peaches originally in
England--then why did your family change the pronunciation? Now----"
"But--" began Marian indignantly.
"On the contrary," said Sir Charles, "you Americans----"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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