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Hillsboro is a very peculiar little speck on the universe; even more peculiar than being like a hen. It is one of the oldest towns in the North, and the moss on it is so thick that it can't be scratched off except in spots. But when it does get stirred up to take an interest in anything, it certainly goes the pace. It hasn't had any real excitement for a long time, and I felt that it needed it. I rolled over and laughed into my pillow.,

If men would just make an end of women's hearts in a businesslike way, it would be so much kinder of them. Why do they prefer to use dull weapons that mash the life out slowly? Everything is at an end for me to-night, and that blow did it. It was a horrible cruel thing for him to say to me! I know now that I have been in love with John Moore for longer than I can tell, and that I'll never love anybody else, and that also I have offered myself to him and have had to be refused at least twice a day for a year. A widow can't say she didn't understand what she was doing, even to herself, but—— My humiliation is complete, and the only thing that can make me ever hold up my head is to puzzle him by—by happily marrying Alfred Bennett—and quick.,

The feast was half over when Patricia, who sat between Margaret Howes and Griffin and opposite to the adorable Doris Leighton, got a distinct shock.,

"No, no, no! I would rather die. I love Maurice."

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Elinor's new friend smiled good-naturedly. "He only drops in once in a while," she said. "He was here pretty often last month, but he hadn't been here before that for nearly four years, they said. He's abroad now, isn't he?",

"I wonder what she was going to say?" she thought, as she went slowly up to Judith's room, where she was to spend the night. "It can't be my imagination this time, for she actually did start to speak, and then stopped." She frowned and then her face cleared. "What a stupid I am—always getting up in the air about trifles! Doris Leighton is tired to death, and wanted to get home. She was just as pleasant as ever, even though she didn't have time or strength to be as sociable as she'd liked. If she hadn't felt an interest in Elinor, she'd not troubled to bring her keys back tonight. I hope she makes good with her prize study, now that she's gotten an idea for it. She's a stunning worker when she goes at it.",

"Why should she want to be horrid to Elinor?" persisted Patricia, frowning a little in her earnestness. "We don't know her very well yet, but she's been perfectly sweet to us both.",

"And how many pounds are we nearer the scarlet-runner state of existence, Mrs. Molly?" he asked me before I had finished tying the blouse, in the nicest voice in the world, fairly cracking with friendship and good humour and hateful things like that. Why I should have wanted him to get huffy over that letter is more than I can say. But I did; and he didn't.