It was a very white lie and not told with
deliberation or malice aforethought. But, as so often happens, it was
destined to be the father of a pestilential pack which were neither
white nor unintentional.
CHAPTER XI
About the Phipps' home hung now the atmosphere of expectancy. It had so
hung for several weeks, ever since the first letter to Cousin Gussie had
been posted, but now there was in it a different quality, a quality
of brightness, of cheer. Martha seemed more like herself, the capable,
adequate self which Galusha had met when he staggered into that house
out of the rain and wind of his first October night on Cape Cod. She was
more talkative, laughed more frequently, and bustled about her work with
much, if not all, of her former energy. She, herself, was quite aware
of the change and commented upon it rather apologetically in one of her
talks with her lodger.
"It's ridiculous," she said, "and I know it, but I can't help it. I'm
as excited as a child and almost as sure everything is goin' to come out
right as--well, as Primmie is. I wasn't so at all in the beginnin'; when
we first sent that letter to your cousin I didn't think there was much
more than one chance in a thousand that he would take any interest in
Wellmouth Development stock. But since you got back from your Boston
cruise, Mr. Bangs, I've felt altogether different.
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