The Little Brown Jug at KildareNicholson, Meredith
General
The Little Brown Jug at Kildare
Nicholson, Meredith
Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Governors -- Fiction; Humorous stories; North Carolina -- Fiction; South Carolina -- Fiction
"When I left Columbia," remarked Griswold, and it was he that smiled
now, "to the best of my knowledge and belief the governor of South
Carolina was deeply absorbed in knitting a necktie, the color of which
was, I think, the orange of a Blue Ridge autumn sunset. And now, if you
will kindly give me pen and paper, I will communicate the Appleweight
situation and our prospects to my honored chief."
CHAPTER XI
TWO LADIES ON A BALCONY
The outer aspect of Ardsley is, frankly, feudal. The idea of a North
Carolina estate had grown out of Ardmore's love of privacy and his wish
to get away from New York where his family was all too frequently struck
by the spot light. The great tract of land once secured he had not
concerned himself about a house, but had thrown together a comfortable
bungalow which satisfied him for a year. But Ardmore's gentle heart,
inaccessible to demands of many sorts, was a defenseless citadel when
appeals were made to his generosity. A poor young architect, lately home
from the Ecole des Beaux Arts, with many honors but few friends, fell
under Ardmore's eyes. The towers and battlements that soon thereafter
crowned the terraced slopes at Ardsley, etching a noble line against the
lovely panorama of North Carolina hills, testified at once to the
architect's talent for adaptation and Ardmore's diminished balances at
the Bronx Loan and Trust Company.
On a balcony that commanded the sunset--a balcony bright with geraniums
that hung daringly over a ravine on the west, Mrs. Atchison and Miss
Jerry Dangerfield were cosily taking their tea. Their white gowns, the
snowy awning stirring slightly in the hill air, the bright trifles of
the tea-table mingled, in a picture of charm and contentment.
"I wonder," said Mrs. Atchison abruptly, "where Tommy is."
"I have no definite idea," said Jerry, pouring cream, "but let us hope
that he is earning his salary."
"His salary?" and Mrs. Atchison's brows contracted. "Do you mean that my
brother is taking pay for this mysterious work he is doing?"
"He shall be paid in money," replied Jerry with decision. "As I have
only the barest acquaintance with Mr. Ardmore, never, in fact, having
seen him until a few days ago, it would be very improper for me to
permit him to serve me except under the rules that govern the relations
of employer and employee."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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