Harriet would look significantly at Ann Spencer and Ann Spencer, who
could scarcely contain her overflowing smiles, would look significantly
at Harriet. As for me, I sat there with perfect confidence in myself--in
my ultimate capacity, as it were. Whatever happened, I was ready for it!
And the great surprise came at last: a SHORT-CAKE: a great, big, red,
juicy, buttery, sugary short-cake, with raspberries heaped up all over
it. When It came in--and I am speaking of it in that personal way
because it radiated such an effulgence that I cannot now remember
whether it was Harriet or Ann Spencer who brought it in--when It came
in, Dick, who pretends to be abashed upon such occasions, gave one swift
glance upward and then emitted a long, low, expressive whistle. When
Beethoven found himself throbbing with undescribable emotions he
composed a sonata; when Keats felt odd things stirring within him he
wrote an ode to an urn, but my friend Dick, quite as evidently on fire
with his emotions, merely whistled--and then looked around evidently
embarrassed lest he should have infringed upon the proprieties of that
occasion.
"Harriet," I said, "you and Ann Spencer are benefactors of the human
race."
"Go 'way now," said Ann Spencer, shaking all over with pleasure, "and
eat your shortcake.
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