The
Suffragists were handsomely dressed, were self-possessed and
appreciative of each other's company, and were of all ages, one being a
plain young girl quietly looking on and enjoying the world more than a
self-wrapped belle is capable of doing.
But to my tale, which is to me more absorbing than _Rob Roy, Robinson
Crusoe_ and _Boots at the Swan_ combined. Of all our visitors I
preferred Uncle Nathan Stene. Not that I liked him personally. He was
the typical rich man: I should know he was rich wherever I met him.
There are thousands like him: they despise me utterly. Uncle Nathan had
a scorn for poor people. He disdained whole States that gave him a bad
market, and regarded young fellows who smoke and go to the theatre as
beggars' dogs. He was of middle height, with reddish complexion, sandy
hair and eyebrows, quick, sharp gray eyes, and features of a short,
clean, close aquiline cut, with thin, dry lips--a man of iron, pig
iron. When young he might have been facetious, but he had concentrated
his energies entirely on money, till there was nothing left to go in
other directions, and his humor was now as sombre as the grin of a
hanged man. He had self-conceit, which is a talent when combined with
some other qualities.
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