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Who Cares? a story of adolescence by Cosmo Hamilton
page 15 of 344 (04%)

The prim old lady, who had in her time borne a wonderful resemblance
to the girl whom she watched so closely,--even to the chestnut-brown
hair and the tip-tilted nose, the full lips, the round chin and the
spirit that at any moment might urge her to break away from
discipline,--retired to carry on her daily tour of inspection; and
the old man stood again with his back to the fire to listen
impatiently and with a futile jealousy to the deeds and misdeeds of
an ever-young and ever-active world.




II


Joan was thankful when lunch was over, and murmured "Amen" to grace
with a fervor that would have surprised an unimaginative and
unobservant person. Like all the meals in that pompous dining-room,
it was a form of torture to a young thing bubbling with health and
high spirits, who was not supposed to speak unless directly
addressed and was obliged to hold herself in check while her
grandparents progressed slowly and deliberately through a menu of
medically thought-out dishes. Both the old people were on a rigid
diet, and mostly the conversation between them consisted of grumbles
at having to dally with baby-food and reminiscences of the admirable
dinners of the past. An aged butler and a footman in the sere and
yellow only added to the general Rip van Winklism, and the presence
of two very old dogs, one the grandfather's Airedale and the other
Mrs. Ludlow's Irish terrier, with a white nose and rusty gray coat,
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