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Keyes, Frances Parkinson, 1885-1970

"The Old Gray Homestead"


But she did not. Austin took good care of that. And Thomas did come
home--without waiting for Sunday. He rushed to the Dean's office, and
told him there had been a death in the family. It is probable that, at
the moment, he felt that this was true. At any rate, the Dean, looking at
the boy's flushed cheeks and heavy eyes, did not doubt it for an instant.
"Of course, you must go home at once," he said kindly; "wait a minute, my
Ford's at the door. I'll run you down to the station--you can just catch
the one o'clock. I'll tell one of the fellows to express a suit-case to
you this evening."
Travel on the Central Vermont Railroad is safe, but its best friend
cannot maintain that it is swift. To get from Lake Champlain to the
Connecticut River requires several changes, much patient waiting in small
and uninteresting stations for connections, and the consumption of
considerable time. It was a little after seven when Thomas, dinnerless
and supperless, reached Hamstead, and plodding doggedly up the road in a
heavy rain, met Mr.


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