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Keyes, Frances Parkinson, 1885-1970

"The Old Gray Homestead"

It's tremendous--lifts you right off your
feet--do you know what I mean?"
They reached home a little after six, to find Uncle Mat, whose existence
they had completely forgotten, waiting for them with his eyes glued to
the clock.
"I was about to have the Hudson River dragged for you two," he said, as
Austin wrung his hand and Sylvia kissed him penitently. "Where _have_ you
been? I came home to lunch, and made several appointments to introduce
Austin to some very influential men, who I think would make valuable
acquaintances for him. It's inexcusable, Sylvia, for you to monopolize
him this way."
The happy culprits exchanged glances, and then Sylvia linked her arm in
Austin's and got down on her knees, dragging him after her.
"I suppose we may as well confess," she said, "because you'd guess it
inside of five minutes, anyway. Please don't be very angry with us."
"What _are_ you talking about? Austin, can you explain? Has Sylvia taken
leave of her senses?"
"I'm afraid so, sir," said Austin, with mock gravity; "it certainly
looks that way.


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