The Romance of a Christmas Card by Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin
page 39 of 63 (61%)
page 39 of 63 (61%)
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wife home and foisted her and her babies on Letty, he rather turned
against him. David was younger than himself, four or five years younger, but he looked as if he hadn't grown up. Surely his boyhood chum hadn't used to be so pale and thin-chested or his mouth so ladylike and pretty. A good face, though; straight and clean, with honest eyes and a likable smile. Lack of will, perhaps, or a persistent run of ill luck. Letty had always kept him stiffened up in the old days. Dick recalled one of his father's phrases to the effect that Dave Gilman would spin on a very small biscuit, and wondered if it were still true. "And you, Dick? Your father's still living? You see I haven't kept up with Beulah lately." "Keeping up with Beulah! It sounds like the title of a novel, but the hero would have to be a snail or he'd pass Beulah in the first chapter!--Yes, father's hale and hearty, I believe." "You come home every Christmas, I s'pose?" inquired David. "No; as a matter of fact this is my first visit since I left for good." "That's about my case." And David, hung his head a little, unconsciously. "That so? Well, I was a hot-headed fool when I said good-bye to Beulah, and it's taken me all this time to cool off and make up my mind to apologize to the dad. There's--there's rather a queer coincidence about my visit just at this time." |
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