Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1905-04-04
I tell you why you don't want me to go!
1t is because you are afraid"
"I am not" she denied.

It is because you are afraid"
"I am not" she denied.
"Yes. you are. You know in your
own heart there is no reason why you
should continue to make me unhappy
and you are afraid I might over per-
suade you"
Her eyes-they were the serene eyes
of cool gray that take on slate blue
tints in stressful moments-met his
defiantly.
"If you think that, withdraw my
objection" she said coldly. Mother
and Penelope will be delighted, I am
sure"
"And you will be bored. world with
out end" he laughed. Never mind;
I'll be decent about 1t and keep out OF
your way as much as you like"
Again she made the little gesture OF
petulent impatience.
"You are continually placing me in
q false position. Can't you leave me
out of it eptirely?"
It is one of the prime requisites OF
successful mastersbip to know when
to press the point home, and when to
recede gracefully. ormsby abruptly
shut the door up on sentiment and
came down to things practical.
"It is your every day comfort that
concerns me chiefly. am going to
take all three of you in charge, giving
the dependable young person a we'll
earned holidays little journey in
which she won't have to chatter with
with the transit people. Have you
chosen your route y the western some
where?"
Miss Brentwood had the fair trans
parent skin that tells tales, and the
blue-gray eyes were apt to confirm
them. David Kent's letter was hidden
in the folds of her loose wasted morn
ing gown, and she fancied 1t stirred
like thing alive to remind her OF
its message. Ormsby was looking past
her to the old fashioned ormolu clock
on the high mantel, comparing the
time with his watch, but he was not
oblivious of the telltale flush.
There is nothing embarrassing
about the choosing Of a route. Is
there?" he queried.
ooh, no; being true Americans, we
don't know one route from another
in our own country" she confessed.
"But at the western end Of 1t we want
to go over the Western Pacific"
Ormsby knew the west by rail routes
as one who travels much for time kill
ing purposes.
"It's a rather roundabout cow path"
he objected. "The Overland Short Line
is a good bit more direct; not to
mention the service, which is a lot
better"
But Elinor had made her small con-
cession to David Kent's letter, and she
would not withdraw 1t.
Probably you don't own any West
ern Pacific stock" she suggested. I'VE
do; and we mean to be loyal to our
salt" ..
Ormsby laughed.
81 see Western Pacific has gone down
few points since the election OF Gov.
Bucks. fl had any, I'd wire my
broker to SELL"
1--WE are not so easily frightened"
she asserted; adding, with a touch OF
the austerity which was her Puritan
birthright: Nor quite so conscience
less as you men"
Call of which goes to prove that you
three lone women need guardian.
But I mustn't keep you any longer
from Abigail and the trunks. What
time shall I send the expediters after
your luggage?"
She told him, and went with him to
the door.
please don't think me ungrateful," ="
she said, when she had thrown the
night-latch for him. 81 don't mean
to be-"
81 don't think anything Of you that
I ought not to think; in that l am as
conscientious as even you could wish.
Good-by, until this evening. I'll meet
you all at the station"
AS had come to be the regular order
of things, Elinor found herself under
fire when she went above stairs to re-
join her mother and sister.
Mrs. Brentwood was not Indifferent
to the Ormsby millions; neither had
she forgotten a certain sentimental
summer at the foot Of Old Croydon.
She was a thin-lipped little person,
plain spoken to the verge Of unfriend-
illness; a woman in whom the rugged,
selfreliant, Puritan strain had become
panic acidulous. And when the Puri-
tan stock degenerates in that direction,
it is apt to lack good Judgment on the
business side, and also the passivity
which smooths the way for incompe-
tence in less assertive folk.
Kent had stood something in awe,
not especially Of her personality, but
Of her tongue; and had been forced
to acquiesce silently in Loring's sum-
ming up of Elinor's mother as woman
who had taken culture and the human
izing amenities of the broader life
much as the granite of her native hills
takes polish-reluctantly, and without
prejudice to its inner granular struo-
ture.
"Elinor, you ought to be ashamed to
keep Brookes Ormsby dangling the way
you do" was the comment when Elinor
came back. You are your fathers
daughters, both of you; there isn't q
drop of the Grimkie blood in either OF
you, | do believe"
Elinor was sufficiently her fathers
daughter to hold her peace under her
mothers reproaches; also, there was
enough Of the Grimkie blood in her
veins to stiffen her in opposition when
need arose. So she said nothing.
"Since your Uncle Ichabod made such
a desperate mess Of that copper busi-
ness in Montana, we have all been
next door to poverty, and you know 1t,
the mother went on, irritated by Eli
nor's silence. 81 don't care so much
for myself; your father and l began
with nothing, and 1 can 60 back to