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She had been told that her maternal grandfather, oldAmos Wansbarra, had chosen the name for her. Valancy Jane was rather terrible,but she liked Valancy, with its odd, out-land tang. None of MY family were ever like that, said Mrs. She did not mentionProfessor Planish as an exception. Valancy hadlived spiritually in the Blue Castle ever since she could remember. And, besides, she couldnot get to Port Lawrence, fifteen miles away, without being takenthere.
They dined with elegance in the Plaza Oak Room.
It was a month since she hadThistle Harvest, so surely Mother could not object.
She had been poor all her life and knewthe galling bitterness of it.
But of course appearances should be kept up.
Hardand fast times for meals were the rule in Mrs.
The lines onher face did not show so plainly then.
Meals were cooked on the little oil-stove in theback porch.
There seemed to be nothing of therevolutionary in her nature.
At twelve, this lover was a fair lad with golden curls and heavenlyblue eyes.
War-savings did not seemto stand high in her fancy.
I am twenty-nine, said the dear child desperately. In this mood Valancy went down to breakfast. I may haveto live eighty years, thought Valancy, in a kind of panic.
Every room in the house was ugly, of course. Nothing, it seemed, could prevent her from catchingthem. I think theyre wonderful, said Valancy, timidly. And me sitting here right nextto him, with ten trillion women looking up and envying me!
Why didnt SOME ONE open the door and let him in? She dared not let herself cry as hard as shewanted to, for two reasons.
Stirling wouldsulk for days if offended, with the airs of an insulted duchess. After all, I must admit that as the presidents wife,I would have a secure position.