THE HONORABLE PERCIVAL ***
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THE HONORABLE PERCIVAL
[Illustration: Their boat had sailed]
THE HONORABLE PERCIVAL
BY ALICE HEGAN RICE
AUTHOR OF "MRS. WIGGS OF THE CABBAGE PATCH," "A ROMANCE OF BILLY-GOAT HILL," ETC.
NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1914
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Copyright, 1914, by THE CENTURY CO. Copyright, 1914, by MCCLURE'S MAGAZINE
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_Published, October, 1914_
CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I A BLIGHTED BEING
II A COUNTER-IRRITANT
III CONVALESCENCE
IV COUNTER-CURRENTS
V STRANDED
VI IN THE WIND-SHELTER
VII THE DAY THAT NEVER WAS
VIII IN THE CROW'S-NEST
IX DRAGGING ANCHOR
X ON THE SEARCH
XI THE GYMKHANA
XII THE SONG OF THE SIREN
XIII PERCIVAL PROCRASTINATES
XIV NEPTUNE TAKES A HAND
XV PERCIVAL RISES TO AN OCCASION
XVI IN PORT
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Their boat had sailed
"Well, did you ever! Where did _you_ come from?"
Her hair, still damp, was hanging about her shoulders, and she carried a bundle of bath-towels under her arm
"Mr. Hascombe!" she demanded breathlessly, "you'll take me out in the surf-boat, won't you?"
At a break-neck speed towards the wharf
"I don't know what makes me so everlastingly silly!" she said fiercely trying to swallow the rising sobs, "but he _won't_ understand!"
"I like the way your mouth looks when you read it"
"Roberta!" he called sternly. "What are you doing out here?"
"You will have to join the crowd," suggested Bobby when Percival complained of not seeing her as often as he wished
"If you want to hold my hand, Mr. Hascombe, you are welcome to it"
He sat on a table swinging his feet in unison with a lot of other young feet, while he sipped lemonade from the same glass as Bobby Boynton
"Isn't that the prettiest thing you ever saw?" she asked, glancing at him over her shoulder
"It's quite worth while," he said, "getting a jab in the wrist, to have you looking after me like this"
"I'm so sorry!" whispered Bobby, putting her arm impulsively around his heaving shoulders
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THE HONORABLE PERCIVAL
I
A BLIGHTED BEING
The Honorable Percival Hascombe came aboard the Pacific liner about to sail from San Francisco, preceded by a fur coat, a gun-case, two pigskin bags, a hat-box, and a valet. He was tall and slender, and moved with an air of fastidious distinction. He wore a small mustache, a monocle, and an expression of unutterable ennui. His costume consisted of a smart tweed traveling-suit, with cap to match, white spats, and a pair of binoculars swung across his shoulders. In his eyes was the look, carefully maintained, of one who has sounded the depths of human tragedy.