It seems as if she were gathering strength, just to break
over Boston like a wave. In fact she did break, last summer. She is a
growing power since her great success at the convention."
"Ah! her success at the convention was very great?" Ransom inquired,
putting discretion into his voice.
Miss Birdseye hesitated a moment, in order to measure her response by
the bounds of righteousness. "Well," she said, with the tenderness of a
long retrospect, "I have seen nothing like it since I last listened to
Eliza P. Moseley."
"What a pity she isn't speaking somewhere to-night!" Ransom exclaimed.
"Oh, to-night she's out in Cambridge. Olive Chancellor mentioned that."
"Is she making a speech there?"
"No; she's visiting her home."
"I thought her home was in Charles Street?"
"Well, no; that's her residence--her principal one--since she became so
united to your cousin. Isn't Miss Chancellor your cousin?"
"We don't insist on the relationship," said Ransom, smiling. "Are they
very much united, the two young ladies?"
"You would say so if you were to see Miss Chancellor when Verena rises
to eloquence. It's as if the chords were strung across her own heart;
she seems to vibrate, to echo with every word.
Pages:
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346