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Elinor blushed and laughed. "I can't, usually," she said, gayly. "It is the Victory that did it. She must have handed down some of the thoughts of the old Greek that carved her out of the white marble under that blue, blue sky of ancient days.",

"You've planned the refurnishing of that east wing to suit the style of nearly every girl in Hillsboro since Tom put on long trousers, Bettie Pollard, and they are just as they have been for fifteen years since you did up the whole house," said Mrs. Johnson as she poured a wine-glass half full from one bottle and added a tablespoonful from another.,

"I am certain of it. Etwald prophesied to my poor lad, in his charlatan way, that if he wed Miss Dallas, or even announced his engagement with her, his fate would be of life in death.",

"No. I believe he found the devil-stick as he says. Within the grounds of Mrs. Dallas, mind you!"

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"I no hear him say anytink about Obi," she replied; "but de spell; it say you marry dat man and no de yaller-ha'r.",

I believe it will be a real relief to write down how I feel about him in his old book, and I shall do it whenever I can't stand him any longer; and if he gave the horrid, red leather thing to me to make me miserable he can't do it; not this spring! I wish I dare burn it up and forget about it, but I daren't! This record on the first page is enough to reduce me—to tears, and I wonder why it doesn't.,

Something in me died for ever, I think, when he spoke to me like that. He's not like other men, and there aren't any other men on earth but him! All the rest are just nowhere. And I'm not anything myself. There's no excuse for my living, and I wish I wasn't so healthy and likely to go on doing it. It was all over, and there was nothing left for me to live for, and before I could stop myself I buried my face in my hands.,

And there I sat in my front room, being embraced in a perfume of everybody's lilacs and hawthorns and affectionate interest and moonlight, with a letter in my hand from the man whose two photographs and letters I used to keep locked up in my desk. Is it any wonder I tingled when he told me that he had never come back because he couldn't have me, and that now the minute he landed in England he was going to lay his heart at my feet? I added his colonial honours to his prostrate heart myself, and my own beat at the prospect. All the eight years faded away, and I was again back in the old garden down at Aunt Adeline's cottage saying good-bye, folded up in his arms. That's the way my memory put the scene to me, but the word "folded" made me remember that blue muslin dress again. I had promised to keep it and wear it for him when he came back—and I couldn't forget that the blue belt was just twenty-three inches and mine is—no, I won't write it. I had got that dress out of the old trunk not ten minutes after I had read the letter and measured it.