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"The Whole Family: a Novel by Twelve Authors"

Till
then, never mind--or, rather, no matter; for it's nothing material,
after all, but there's a lot in it for the mind."
I knew then that he was in one of his fundamental moods, imperviously
jolly on the surface, inflexibly Puritan underneath, and that the only
thing to do was to let the subject rest until he chose to take it up in
earnest. So we drove along, chaffing and laughing, until we came to the
dear, old, ugly house. The whole family were waiting on the veranda to
bid me welcome home. Mrs. Talbert took my hands with a look that said
it all. Her face had not grown a shade older, to me, since I first knew
her; and her eyes--the moment you look into them you feel that she
understands. Alice seemed to think that she had become too grown-up to
be kissed, even by the friend of the family; and I thought so, too. But
pretty Peggy was of a different mind. There is something about the way
that girl kisses an old gentleman that almost makes him wish himself
young again.
At supper we had the usual tokens of festivity: broiled chickens and
pop-overs and cool, sliced tomatoes and ice-cream with real
strawberries in it (how good and clean it tasted after Ispahan and
Bagdad!) and the usual family arguing and joking (how natural and
wholesome it sounded after Vienna and Paris!). I thought Maria looked
rather strenuous and severe, as if something important were on her
mind, and Billy and Alice, at moments, had a conscious air.


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