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Maxwell, W. B., 1866-1938

"The Devil's Garden"

"
When, winking and bowing, he resumed his seat by Mary's side, the
applause from the bottom of the table was vociferous. "Brayvo. He hev
a said it smart. Never 'eard it better worded. Well done, Mr. Druitt."
Half the flowers had lost their color in the extending shadow of the
house before Mr. and Mrs. Druitt drove away. The higgler's pony
groaned between the shafts of a cart that was much too big for him;
rice and old shoes struck the wheels; Mrs. Goudie made her last joke;
the men at the yard gate shouted; Norah and the children ran a little
way along the road--and then the party was over.
After a few days Mr. Druitt called exactly as usual to offer good
bacon. "Mornin', ma'am. Mary sends her love, and the message that
she's as happy as the day is long."
"And I hope," said Mavis, "that you are happy too, Mr. Druitt."
"Mrs. Dale," he said, "I don't reco'nize myself. When I think of the
past and the present--"
Mavis stopped him. He was of course going to disparage Number One, and
she felt that to be so horrid of him.


XXII

The new housemaid was adequately filling Mary's place, and life at
Vine-Pits as of old ran smoothly on. With increasing means the Dales
still refrained from frivolous additions to household expenditure.


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