Banks and banking -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; New England -- Fiction; Singers -- Fiction
“Why, yes; take the carriage if she isn’t able to walk. I wonder her
father hasn’t set up a turn-out by this time. He will soon, you’ll see.
He has a lot of fresh depositors in his bank. Five thousand from Godfrey
Sheldon, who very likely will come sneaking back, but I shall tell him
better stay where he is. Yes, sir! I don’t ask no odds of him.”
This answer would have decided Fred to go for Louie himself, if he had
not already made up his mind to do so. If attention from him could repay
her in part, she should have it. It was not difficult, either, to be
attentive to her. She was so pretty, with the white hood on her head and
the eager light of expected enjoyment in her bright eyes, that he found
himself wishing the drive from the Greys’ to the Whites’ longer than it
was, and was not sorry when they found the avenue blocked with
carriages. With the exception of the Greys, not many had sent regrets,
either from Springfield or Worcester, or the adjoining towns, or
Merivale. Of those invited in the latter place, a few had been so
fearful of losing their money that they had demanded it with the rest,
and now were repenting their haste. To face Judge White so soon was not
to be thought of, and they stayed at home, but were scarcely missed in
the crowd which, as early as eight, began filling the house. From
Springfield a private car had been chartered, bringing fifty or more,
and it was the carriages taking these from the station which were
keeping the White carriage back.
“There will be a great crush; here’s a regular block, such as is
sometimes seen at the White House in Washington,” Fred said. “I hope you
do not mind the waiting?”
“Not in the least. Do you?” Louie replied.
“Indeed, I don’t. I’d rather be here, where it is cool, than in rooms as
hot as those must be, with all the people, to say nothing of the gas,”
Fred answered, leaning back in the carriage, with a feeling that he
could stay there for hours watching Louie’s face, on which the lights of
the lanterns and the moonbeams fell, bringing out every point of beauty
and making it very fair and sweet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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