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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Tides of Barnegat"


"I should say twenty, maybe twenty-two--you
can't always tell about these girls; very pretty and
very rich. I am quite sure I saw Mr. Feilding driving
with her just before he moved his horses down
here, and she looked prettier than ever. But then
he has a new flame every month, I hear."
"Where were they driving?" There was a slight
tone of curiosity in Lucy's voice. None of Max's
love-affairs ever affected her, of course, except as they
made for his happiness; all undue interest, therefore,
was out of place, especially before Mrs. Coates.
"I don't remember. Along the River Road, perhaps
--he generally drives there when he has a pretty
woman with him."
Lucy bit her lip. Some other friend, then, had
been promised the drag with the red body and yellow
wheels! This was why he couldn't come to Yardley
when she wrote for him. She had found the button.
It rang up another woman.
The door between the connecting sitting-rooms was
not opened that day, nor that night, for that matter.
Lucy pleaded a headache and wished to be alone.
She really wanted to look the field over and see where
her line of battle was weak. Not that she really
cared--unless the girl should upset her plans; not
as Jane would have cared had Doctor John been
guilty of such infidelity.


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