17/31 For all his dignity and his gray crown of sixty years, Mr. What battle was to that Scriptural hero's warhorse so was the strife of stocks as breath in the nostrils of Mr.Bayard. Richard's eyes were as bright as those of Mr.Bayard when he received the French shares, but it was a softer brightness born of thoughts of Dorothy, and in no wise to be confounded with that battle-glitter which shone in the eyes of the other. Thus ran the note of Mr.Bayard: Dear Mr.Storms: Our bears are safely in the pit which we digged for them. The New York five are taking it in a temper of stolid philosophy, being bruins of experience. |