Why was he always forgetting?
Then he asked impulsively, while pity burned at white heat within him, "Is Father here?
I want to speak to him before we go out." "He came in an hour ago," said Mrs.Culpeper; and as she spoke the mild leonine countenance of Mr.Culpeper, vaguely resembling some playful and domesticated king of beasts, appeared at the door of his dressing-room.
"Do you wish to see me, my boy ?" he asked affectionately.

"We were just wondering if you had forgotten and stayed at the club." "No, I wasn't at the club.

I've been looking over the Culpeper estate--a part of it." Stephen's voice trembled in spite of the effort he made to keep it impersonal and indifferent.

"Father, do you know anything about those old houses beyond Marshall Street ?" It was the peculiar distinction of Mr.Culpeper that, in a community where everybody talked all the time, he had been able to form the habit of silence.

While his acquaintances continually vociferated opinions, scandals, experiences, or anecdotes, he remained imperturbably reticent and subdued.