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Mackay, Isabel Ecclestone, 1875-1928

"The Window-Gazer"


You know he came out here partly to get material for his book? Well,
that's what he's doing. Must be, because there are only Indians up
there."
"Indians? What do you mean--Indians? Wild ones?"
"Fairly wild."
Aunt Caroline snorted. She is one of the few ladies left who possess
this Victorian, accomplishment. "And you advise my leaving my
sister's child in his present precarious state of mind alone among
fairly wild Indians?"
"Well--er--that's just it, you see. He isn't alone--not exactly."
"What do you mean--not exactly?"
"I mean that his--er--secretary is with him. He has to have a
secretary on account of never being sure whether receive is 'ie' or
'ei.' They are quite all right, though. The captain of the boat says
so. And naturally on a trip of that kind, research you know, a man
doesn't like to be interrupted."
Aunt Caroline arose. "When does the next boat leave?" She asked
calmly.
"But--dash it all! We're not invited. We can't butt in. I--I won't
go."
Aunt Caroline, admirable woman, knew when she was defeated. She had
a formula for it, a formula which seldom failed to turn defeat into
victory. When all else failed, Aunt Caroline collapsed. She
collapsed now. She had borne a great deal, she had not complained,
but to be told that her presence would be a "butting in" upon the
only living child of her only dead sister was more than even her
fortitude could endure! No, she wouldn't take a glass of water,
water would choke her.


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