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Keyes, Frances Parkinson, 1885-1970

"The Old Gray Homestead"

"
This was a somewhat crushing beginning. But Thomas was not daunted.
"I suppose that is because I was older than most when I went to college,"
he said cheerfully, "but though you're a little bit older, I'm nearer
your age than any of the others--much nearer than Austin. Had you ever
thought of that?"
"No," said Sylvia again, still more absently. "Why should I? I feel about
a thousand."
"Well, you _look_ about sixteen! Honest, Sylvia, no one would guess
you're a day over that, you're so pretty. Has any one ever told you how
pretty you are?"
"Well, it has been mentioned," said Sylvia dryly, "but I have always
thought that it was one of those things that was greatly overestimated."
"Why, it couldn't be! You're perfectly lovely! There isn't a girl in
Burlington that can hold a candle to you. I've been going out, socially,
a lot all winter, and I know. I've been to hops and whist-parties and
church-suppers. The girls over there have made quite a little of me,
Sylvia, but I've never--"
There was a deafening report.


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