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Keyes, Frances Parkinson, 1885-1970

"The Old Gray Homestead"

"
"No, she won't. You see, I found, two hours ago, that it would be a long
time before I got back, and I telephoned her saying I was going to spend
the night with you. Don't you understand? She thought I was here then."
"Edith--you didn't lie to your mother!"
"Now, Sylvia, don't begin to scold at this hour, when I'm tired and
sleepy as I can be! It wasn't my fault we burst two tires, was it? But
mother's prejudiced against Hugh, just because Sally, who's a perfect
prude, didn't happen to like him. Lend me one of your delicious
night-dresses, do, and let me cuddle down beside you--the bed's so big,
you'll never know I'm there."
Sylvia mechanically opened a drawer and handed her the garment she
requested.
"Gracious, Sylvia, it's like a cobweb--perhaps if I marry a rich man, I
can have things like this! What an angel you look in yours! Austin will
certainly think he's struck heaven when he sees you like that! I never
could understand what a little thing like you wanted this huge bed for,
but, of course, you knew when you bought it--"
"Edith," interrupted Sylvia sharply, "be quiet! In the morning I want to
talk with you a little.


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