Mrs Murchison considered, and did not scruple
to say so, that politics should be left alone on Sundays.
Clayfield votes might be very important, but there were
such things as commandments, she supposed. "It'll bring
no blessing," she declared severely, eyeing Lorne's empty
place.
The talk about the lamplit table was, nevertheless, all
of the election, blessed or unblessed. It was not in
human nature that it shouldn't be, as Mrs Murchison would
have very quickly told you if you had found her
inconsistent. There was reason in all things, as she
frequently said.
"I hear," Alec had told them, "that Octavius Milburn is
going around bragging he's got the Elgin Chamber of
Commerce consolidated this time."
"Against us?" exclaimed Stella; and her brother said,
"Of course!"
"Those Milburns," remarked Mrs Murchison, "are enough to
make one's blood boil. I met Mrs Milburn in the market
yesterday; she'd been pricing Mrs Crow's ducks, and they
were just five cents too dear for her, and she
stopped--wonderful thing for her--and had SUCH an amount
to say about Lorne, and the honour it was, and the dear
only knows what! Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth--and
Octavius Milburn doing all he knew against him the whole
time! That's the Milburns! I cut her remarkably short,"
Mrs Murchison added, with satisfaction, "and when she'd
made up her mind she'd have to give that extra five cents
for the ducks because there weren't any others to be had,
she went back and found I'd bought them.
Pages:
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325