"Lord sakes! I should think it would make 'em cold."
"I wonder if men are ever great?" asked Vesta; "or whether it is not
great occasion and trial that project them. A crisis comes in our lives,
and, finding what we can endure, we incur greater risks, and finally
delight in such adventure."
"That is the way with my poor boy, Levin," said Mrs. Dennis, quietly, to
Vesta. She was a pretty woman, somewhat past thirty, with rosy cheeks,
blue eyes, neat but rather poor attire, and a simple, artless manner,
and might have passed for the sister of her son.
"Is Levin coming for you to-night?" Vesta asked.
"No," blushed the widow; "James Phoebus will see me home. Levin has
gone off in his boat, and I have been worried about him all day. Some
time, I am afraid, he will go and never return. Oh, Cousin Vesta, this
waiting for a husband neither alive nor dead is very trying."
Overhearing the remark, Mrs. Custis remarked, "Norah, you ought to be
ashamed to keep that faithful fellow waiting on you, when you could give
yourself a good husband and reward him so easily."
"I think you had better look out for old age," Mrs. Tilghman also said,
"while you have youth and good looks to obtain the provision. Oden
Dennis is probably dead; if not dead, he does not mean to return, for I
can think of no circumstances in this age which would forcibly detain a
man from his wife fifteen years.
Pages:
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290