Missy by Dana Gatlin
page 190 of 353 (53%)
page 190 of 353 (53%)
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wearer and her quarry all depart together; commiseration for the
victim vied with resentment against the temptress. Poor Arthur! She herself expected to be taken home by the O'Neills, but to her surprise she found her father waiting in the church vestibule. He said he had decided to come and hear the new minister, and Missy never suspected it was the unrest of a father who sees his little girl trying to become a big girl that had dragged him from his house-slippers and smoking-jacket this snowy evening. They walked homeward through the swirling flakes in silence. That was one reason why Missy enjoyed being with her father--she could be so companionably silent with him. She trudged along beside him, half-consciously trying to match his stride, while her thoughts flew far afield. But presently father spoke. "He's very eloquent, isn't he?" "He?--who?" She struggled to get her thoughts back home. Her father peered at her through the feathery gloom. "Why, the preacher--Reverend MacGill." "Oh, yes." She shook herself mentally. "He's perfectly fasci--" she broke off, remembering she was talking to a grown-up. "He's very inspired," she amended. |
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