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Howells, William Dean, 1837-1920

"The Rise of Silas Lapham"



VII.

THE exultant Colonel swung himself lightly down from his seat.
"I've brought Mr. Corey with me," he nonchalantly explained.
Mrs. Lapham made their guest welcome, and the Colonel showed
him to his room, briefly assuring himself that there was
nothing wanting there. Then he went to wash his own hands,
carelessly ignoring the eagerness with which his wife
pursued him to their chamber.
"What gave Irene a headache?" he asked, making himself
a fine lather for his hairy paws.
"Never you mind Irene," promptly retorted his wife.
"How came he to come? Did you press him? If you DID,
I'll never forgive you, Silas!"
The Colonel laughed, and his wife shook him by the
shoulder to make him laugh lower. "'Sh!" she whispered.
"Do you want him to hear EVERY thing? DID you urge him?"
The Colonel laughed the more. He was going to get
all the good out of this. "No, I didn't urge him.
Seemed to want to come."
"I don't believe it. Where did you meet him?"
"At the office."
"What office?"
"Mine."
"Nonsense! What was he doing there?"
"Oh, nothing much."
"What did he come for?" "Come for? Oh! he SAID he wanted
to go into the mineral paint business."
Mrs. Lapham dropped into a chair, and watched his bulk
shaken with smothered laughter. "Silas Lapham," she gasped,
"if you try to get off any more of those things on me----"
The Colonel applied himself to the towel.


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