Miss McDonald by Mary Jane Holmes
page 62 of 108 (57%)
page 62 of 108 (57%)
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Russia, and was expected daily. Feeling intuitively that it concerned
Daisy, Tom had opened it, and without a moment's hesitation packed his valise, and, leaving a note for the McDonalds when they should return, started for Rouen. Daisy did not know him, and in her delirium she said things to him and of him which hurt him cruelly. Guy was her theme, and the letter which went "too late, too late." Then she would beg of Tom to go for Guy, to bring him to her and tell him how much she loved him and how good she would be if he would take her back. "Father wants me to marry Tom," she said in a whisper, and Tom's heart almost stood still as he listened; "and Tom wanted me, too, but I couldn't, you know, even if he were worth his weight in gold. I could not love him. Why, he's got red hair, and such great freckles on his face, and big feet and hands with freckles on them. Do you know Tom?" "Yes, I know him," Tom answered sadly, forcing down a choking sob, while the "big hand with the great freckles on it" smoothed the golden hair tenderly and pushed it back from the burning brow. "Don't talk any more, Daisy; it tires you so," he said, as he saw her about to speak again. But Daisy was not to be stopped, and she went on: "Tom is good, though; so good, but awkward, and I like him ever so much, but I can't be his wife. I cannot. I cannot." "He doesn't expect it now, or want it," came huskily from Tom, while Daisy quickly asked: |
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