The Man Thou Gavest by Harriet T. (Harriet Theresa) Comstock
page 25 of 328 (07%)
page 25 of 328 (07%)
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always think, when I see things, that I'm going to do a big, fine thing
some day. I feel upperty and then--poof! off go the pictures and I am just--lil' Nella-Rose again!" A comically heavy sigh brought Truedale back to earth. "But the face you saw long ago," Truedale whispered, "was it my face, do you think?" Nella-Rose paused--then quietly: "I--reckon it was. Yes, I'm mighty sure it was your face. When I saw it at that window"--she pointed across the room--"I certainly thought my eyes were closed and that--it had come--the kind, good face that saved me!" A sweet, friendly smile wreathed the girl's lips and she rose with rare dignity and held out her thin, delicate hand: "Mister Outlander, we're going to be neighbours, aren't we?" "Yes--neighbours!" Truedale took the hand with a distinct sense of suffocation, "but why do you call me an outlander?" "Because--you are! You're not _of_ our mountains." "No, I wish I were!" "Wishing can't make you. You are--or you aren't." Truedale noted the girl's language. Distorted and crude as it often was, it was never positively illiterate. This surprised him. |
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