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Howells, William Dean, 1837-1920

"The Rise of Silas Lapham"

"
"That was very unsatisfactory. I supposed you went
to find out whether Tom was in love with the girl.
Was she as pretty as ever?"
"I didn't see her; she was not at home; I saw her sister."
"I don't know that I follow you quite, Anna. But no matter.
What was the sister like?"
"A thoroughly disagreeable young woman."
"What did she do?"
"Nothing. She's far too sly for that. But that was
the impression."
"Then you didn't find her so amusing as Tom does?"
"I found her pert. There's no other word for it.
She says things to puzzle you and put you out."
"Ah, that was worse than pert, Anna; that was criminal.
Well, let us thank heaven the younger one is so pretty."
Mrs. Corey did not reply directly. "Bromfield," she said,
after a moment of troubled silence, "I have been thinking
over your plan, and I don't see why it isn't the right thing."
"What is my plan?" inquired Bromfield Corey.
"A dinner."
Her husband began to laugh. "Ah, you overdid the
accusing-spirit business, and this is reparation."
But Mrs. Corey hurried on, with combined dignity and anxiety--
"We can't ignore Tom's intimacy with them--it amounts
to that; it will probably continue even if it's merely
a fancy, and we must seem to know it; whatever comes
of it, we can't disown it. They are very simple,
unfashionable people, and unworldly; but I can't say
that they are offensive, unless--unless," she added,
in propitiation of her husband's smile, "unless the
father--how did you find the father?" she implored.


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