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Keyes, Frances Parkinson, 1885-1970

"The Old Gray Homestead"

Gray came into the
room with a mute, haggard expression on her kind, homely face which
Sylvia never forgot, and put her arms around the younger woman.
"Austin's askin' for you, dearie. It's been a hard day for him, too--I
think you ought to go to him. I'll sit here until you come back."
Sylvia nodded, and stole silently out of the room. Austin was waiting for
her at the foot of the stairs, his smile of welcome changing to an
expression of stern solicitude as he looked at her.
"Have you been seeing ghosts? You're whiter than chalk--no wonder, shut
up in that hot, dark room all day, without any rest and almost without
any food! No matter if Edith does want you most, you'll have to take
turns with mother after this. Come out with me where it's cool for a
little while--and then you must have some supper, and a bath, and
Sally's room to sleep in--if you won't go home, which is really the best
place for you."
She allowed him to lead her, without saying a word, to the sheltered
slope of the river, and sat down under a great elm, while he flung
himself down beside her, laying his head in her lap.


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