The Caucasian. (Clinton, N.C.) 188?-1913, 1893-08-10
CHAPTER L

/ sion in subdued but agitated activity
during the entire forenoon The old
place held its breath. a. il were.
Without. a Sabbath-like repose en-
wrapped all things. In the ample front
yard. where more than a dozen century
old live oaks conspired 70 discourage
the growth of the grass. leafy shadows
were reflected from freshly -scaritied
surface of hard brown earth The
White Cliffs carriage-drive made a very
grand sweep from the big entrance
gate around the outer circle Of the old
live oaks up to the low succeed front
steps, on either side of which thick beds
of purple and white violets cushioned
the brown earth and were even then
sweetening the chill November air.
In one of the large square rooms
which looked out upon the flower
garden at the side of the house. the en-
tire family of White Cliffs, with two
exceptions, was assembled Those
present consisted of the mistress of
White Cliffs and three of her sons.
THE Lorimer boys" with one ex-
ception, were great, broad-shouldered,
long-legged, stalwart young men, with
square determined jaws and fine eyes.
Their height and their square jaws
were maternal contributions. Their
good looks and indomitable love of
rowing came from the Loriner side.
People said there must be a trouba-
dour or two in some of the branches of
the Lor1mer tree The boys were
always falling into sentimental scrapes
~ -
was, nothing irked them more than
sitting decorously around the house
like SO many stabby CATS" as RATE
contemptuously described it.
They looked absurdly i'll at ease this
quiet afternoon, grouped idly about the
open fireplace, with nothing more
active on hand than watching their
mothers fast-fying knitting needles
They would have felt infinitely more
comfortable with their guns upon their
shoulders, their trousers securely
tucked inside their top boots, their dogs
at their heels, and murder in their
hearts But the spell of the unusual
was upon them too. The guns were all
stacked in one corner of the green
tinted hall, the dogs were in exile, and,
with their three pairs of restless feet
encased in faultlessly polished foot
gear, the Lorimer boys sat decorously
about the home hearth, patient and
bored.
The mistress of White Cliffs was
dressed in her best black bombazine,
over which she had thriftily drawn a
crisp white muslin apron. She was
knitting. Divine Providence had laid
the memorable necessity upon Mrs.
Lorimer OF always keeping her hands
occupied. She always was knitting if
she was not doing something else.
Apart from the swift-fying fingers, she
was absolutely motionless. The rest
lessness which on the boys part found
expression In the shutting of feet, I'M
repressed yawns, or an occasional ex-
pletive indicative Of wearied patience,
was only to be surnised in her case by
the unnecessary frequency with which
she Jerked fresh supply of wool from
the big gray ball in her lap
Her eyes, not big and soft and gray
like the "Lorimer eyes" but small, !
blue and penetrating, never once left |
the dancing flames of the wood fire. !
Her strong, square, masculine jaw
twitohed occasionally; but whatever her
source of inward disquiet, it found no
other expression She sat there the en-
bodiment of self-contained strength.
The, neighbors were fond of saying
that "the Lorimer boys never would
know what they owed their mother"
That they were fully conscious of her
worth, and that they still stood in con-
siderable awe of her, great burly fell
lows that they were, was beyond ques-
ton; but their awe was mixed with the
tenderest reverence
Suddenly scuffiing of hurried bare
feet; then the big mahogany door was