"After all, I do prefer a chair," said Farnham, getting down from his
balustrade, and throwing away his cigar.
He sat with his back to the moonlight. On his left was Alice, who, as
soon as Furrey took his departure, settled back in her willow chair in
her former attitude of graceful ease. On the right was Mrs. Belding, in
her thin, cool dress of gauzy black. Farnham looked from one to the
other as they talked, and that curious exercise, so common to young men
in such circumstances, went through his mind. He tried to fancy how
Mrs. Belding looked at nineteen, and how Miss Belding would look at
fifty, and the thought gave him singular pleasure. His eyes rested with
satisfaction on the kindly and handsome face of the widow, her fine
shoulders and arms, and comfortable form, and then, turning to the pure
and exquisite features of the tall girl, who was smiling so freshly and
honestly on him, his mind leaped forward through corning years, and he
said to himself: "What a wealth of the woman there is there--for
somebody." An aggressive feeling of disapproval of young Furrey took
possession of him, and he said, sharply:
"What a very agreeable young man Mr.
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