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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Peter: a novel of which he is not the hero"

What
then would become of him? Peter was, in fact, his main and only
reliance. Peter he must see, and at once.
Not that he wavered or grew faint at heart when he thought of his
defeat the night before. He was only thinking of his exit and the
way to make it. "Always take your leave like a gentleman," was one
of his father's maxims. This he would try his best to accomplish.
Mrs. McGuffey, in white cap and snow-white apron, now that Miss
Felicia had arrived, was the medium of communication this time:
"Indeed, they are both in--this way, sir, and let me have your hat
and coat."
It was a delightful party that greeted the boy. Peter was standing
on the hearth-rug with his back to the fire, his coat-tails hooked
over his wrists. Miss Felicia sat by a small table pretending to
sew. Holker Morris was swallowed up in one of Peter's big easy-
chairs, only the top of his distinguished head visible, while a
little chub of a man, gray-haired, spectacled and plainly dressed,
was seated behind him, the two talking in an undertone.


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