Pearson
had not gotten cold. Colds were prevalent at this time of the year.
"'These are the days when the Genius of the weather sits in mournful
meditation on the threshold,' as Mr. Dickens tells us," he added. "I
presume he sits on the sills of open windows, also."
The wife of the Mr. Dickens there present pricked up her ears.
"When did you write that, 'C.' dear?" she asked, turning to her husband.
"I remember it perfectly, of course, but I have forgotten, for the
moment, in which of your writings it appears."
The illustrious one's mouth being occupied with a section of scorching
hot waffle, he was spared the necessity of confession.
"Pardon me," said Mr. Ludlow. "I was not quoting our Mr. Dickens this
time, but his famous namesake."
The great "C." drowned the waffle with a swallow of water.
"Maria," he snapped, "don't be so foolish. Ludlow quotes
from--er--'Bleak House.' I have written some things--er--similar, but
not that. Why don't you pass the syrup?"
The bookseller, who was under the impression that he had quoted from the
"Christmas Carol," merely smiled and remained silent.
"My father, the Senator," began Mrs. Van Winkle Ruggles, "was troubled
with colds during his political career. I remember his saying that
the Senate Chamber at the Capitol was extremely draughty.
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