brothers gathered round her. “We will speak to him!”
“Let us speak to him for you!”
, “I must go myself.”
She went at once to the room where her father sat alone.
For a moment she could find no words; but none were needed.
Gravely but kindly Mr. Ward
said he was surprised to find that her idea of “a few friends” differed so widely from his own; he was sorry she had not consulted him more freely, and begged that in the future she would do so. Then he kissed her good-night with his usual tenderness, and it was over.
The matter was never mentioned again.
The Wards continued to pass the summers at Newport
, but no longer at good Jacob Bailey
had bought a house in town, which a later generation was to know as “The Ashurst Cottage,” on the corer of Bellevue Avenue and Catherine Street.
Here the severity of his rule relaxed somewhat, and the pretty house became the centre of a sober hospitality.
was a sober place in those days.
There were one or two houses where dancing was allowed, but these were viewed askance by many people.
One evening, a dancing party was given by a couple on Bellevue Avenue. They had a manservant named Salathiel, a person of rigid piety.
When supper-time came, Salathiel was not to be found.
The other servants, being questioned, said that he had rushed suddenly out of the house, crying, “I won't stay to see those people dancing themselves to hell!”
might not dance, except at home, she