Then she went away.
XII. THE FRIEND OF THE FAMILY
by Henry Van Dyke
"Eastridge, June 3, 1907.
"To Gerrit Wendell, The Universe Club, New York:
"Do you remember promise? Come now, if possible. Much needed.
Cyrus Talbert."
This was the telegram that Peter handed me as I came out of the
coat-room at the Universe and stood under the lofty gilded ceiling of
the great hall, trying to find myself at home again in the democratic
simplicity of the United States. For two years I had been travelling in
the effete, luxurious Orient as a peace correspondent for a famous
newspaper; sleeping under canvas in Syria, in mud houses in Persia, in
paper cottages in Japan; riding on camel-hump through Arabia, on
horseback through Afghanistan, in palankeen through China, and faring
on such food as it pleased Providence to send. The necessity of putting
my next book through the press (The Setting Splendors of the East) had
recalled me to the land of the free and the home of the brave. Two
hours after I had landed from the steamship, thirty seconds after I had
entered the club, there was Peter, in his green coat and brass buttons,
standing in the vast, cool hall among the immense columns of
verd-antique, with my telegram on a silver tray, which he presented to
me with a discreet expression of welcome in his well-trained face, as
if he hesitated to inquire where I had been, but ventured to hope that
I had enjoyed my holiday and that there was no bad news in my despatch.
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