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Oemler, Marie Conway, 1879-1932

"A Woman Named Smith"

He told
me so himself."
It took Alicia some moments to recover from that!
"And yet you're going to marry him, Sophy?"
"You heard him announce our engagement."
"I can't understand!" sighed Alicia. "Oh, Sophy, sometimes I could
wish we had never come to Hynds House!"
"It had to be," I said dully.
"And--The Author?" ventured Alicia, after a pause. "He thinks you
belong to him by right of discovery. He doesn't accept Mr. Jelnik's
announcement as final. He told me this morning that his offer stood
until you actually married somebody else. The Author isn't used to
being crossed, and he doesn't quite know how to take it."
"It is on the knees of the gods," I repeated, weariedly.
Came a gentle tap at the door, and following it the fresh, kind face
of Miss Emmeline.
"Are you trying to rival the Seven Sleepers?" she asked, gaily, and
laid a bunch of carnations on my knees by way of offering. "Judge
Gatchell sent them to me this morning," she explained, with an
October blush. For the sallow old jurist had taken so great a liking
to the Boston reincarnation of a Theban vestal, and was in
consequence so rejuvenated, himself, that all Hyndsville was holding
up the hands of astonishment and biting the finger of conjecture.


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