Mrs. Bob: A Novel — page 251: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

SO HAS THAT SCHEMER MONSIEUR MERLE. 243 ‘‘Ah! if you knew how much you look like my Ruth, your own mother, when I first met her at a ballin Richmond. It fairly staggers me,’’ which praise brings a blush to her cheek. It is sweet to have a father’s admiration. There are five—one too many for the hack. ‘“We can crowd in,’’ says Bob, cheerily. ‘‘Oh! no, I have arranged that,’’ replies Craig, coolly. ‘*In what way ?”’ ‘*You see, I have selected a vehicle that has room for another beside the driver. Thanking you for your kindness I shall be the outside passenger.”’ They arrive. Scores of carriages line both sides of the street, and still they come. Here are vehicles bearing the signet mark of New York’s first families; with some a coat of arms, with others the plain or fancy monogram. Doors are slamming, horses prancing, vehicles moving. It is a scene that presents much life, and which it is strange no artist has drawn upon for a masterpiece. In turn, our friends reach the stone, and are assisted to alight. Bob makes mental note of the driver’s number, and then, with his wife, follows the others into the opera house. Thus they reach the scene where the last act of the drama is to be played. It seems almost like the irony of fate that this should be under a roof conse- crated to mimic tragedy and comedy, which nightly witnesses imaginary scenes such as life all around teeins with, scenes that clever playwrights and com- GEomichbooksrGco im