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Keyes, Frances Parkinson, 1885-1970

"The Old Gray Homestead"

"I t'ank you ver' much, missus," he said politely. "It's a ver'
varm evening, not? Goodnight."
For a few minutes after Peter left, Sylvia sat thinking over what he had
said, and her own face grew "vorried" too. Then the garden gate clicked
again, and for the next two hours she was too happy for trouble of any
kind to touch her. Austin's interview with Mr. Carter had proved a great
success, and after that had been thoroughly discussed, they found a great
deal to say about their own plans for September. For the moment, she
quite forgot all that Peter had said.
It came back to her, vividly enough, a few nights later. She had sat up
very late, writing to Austin, and was still lying awake, long after
midnight, when she heard the whirr of a motor near by, and a moment later
a soft voice calling under her window. She threw a negligee about her,
and ran to the front door; as she unlatched it, Edith slipped in, her
finger on her lips.
"Hush! Don't let the servants hear! Oh, Sylvia, I've had such a
lark--will you keep me overnight!"
"I would gladly, but your mother would be worried to death.


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