"
"You don't look over and above well yourself, Persis,"
said her husband kindly.
"Oh, don't talk about me. What I want to know is whether
you can't get the time to run off with her somewhere.
I wrote to you about Dubuque. She'll work herself down,
I'm afraid; and THEN I don't know as she'll be over it.
But if she could go off, and be amused--see new people----"
"I could MAKE the time," said Lapham, "if I had to.
But, as it happens, I've got to go out West on business,--I'll
tell you about it,--and I'll take Irene along."
"Good!" said his wife. "That's about the best thing I've
heard yet. Where you going?"
"Out Dubuque way."
"Anything the matter with Bill's folks?"
"No. It's business."
"How's Pen?"
"I guess she ain't much better than Irene."
"He been about any?"
"Yes. But I can't see as it helps matters much."
"Tchk!" Mrs. Lapham fell back against the carriage cushions.
"I declare, to see her willing to take the man that we
all thought wanted her sister! I can't make it seem right."
"It's right," said Lapham stoutly; "but I guess she
ain't willing; I wish she was. But there don't seem to be
any way out of the thing, anywhere. It's a perfect snarl.
But I don't want you should be anyways ha'sh with Pen."
Mrs. Lapham answered nothing; but when she met Penelope
she gave the girl's wan face a sharp look, and began
to whimper on her neck.
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