Had a mass of outdoor roses been laid
by his side, their fragrance filling the air, the beauty of their
coloring entrancing his soul, he could not have been more
intoxicated by their beauty.
And yet, strange to say, only commonplaces rose to his lips. All
the volcano beneath, and only little spats of smoke and dying bits
of ashes in evidence! Even the message of his Chief about her not
getting a new bonnet all summer seemed a godsend under the
circumstances. Had there been any basis for her self-denial he
would not have told her, knowing how much anxiety she had suffered
an hour before. But there was no real good reason why she should
economize either in bonnets or in anything else she wanted.
McGowan, of course, would be held responsible; for whatever damage
had been done he would have to pay. He had been present when the
young architect's watchful and trained eye had discovered some
defects in the masonry of the wing walls of the McGowan culvert
bridging the stream, and had heard him tell the contractor, in so
many words that if the water got away and smashed anything below
him he would charge the loss to his account.
Pages:
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406