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Oemler, Marie Conway, 1879-1932

"A Woman Named Smith"


"My dears," said Miss Emmeline, presently, "I want to tell you the
singular dream I had last night, or rather this morning. I was quite
tired, for I do not often dance," admitted Miss Emmeline, who had
nevertheless danced with a zest that rivaled that of the youngest,
"so I must have fallen asleep immediately upon retiring. Well, then,
I dreamed that all those old Hyndses whose portraits are down-stairs
were gathered together in the library, to bid farewell to a member
of the family who was going away--that beautiful creature who
disappeared and was never afterward found. Now, aren't dreams
absurd? She was setting out upon a long journey dressed in a
low-necked, short-sleeved brown silk dress trimmed with quantities
of fine lace. And for goodness' sake what do you think that woman
wore over it for a traveling-cloak? Nothing more or less than a gray
army blanket, a corner of which was thrown over her head like a
hood and quite concealed her face.
"She moved away slowly, holding her blanket as an Indian does.
And as she passed me by--for I was standing in the door--a fold
slipped, and what do you think she was holding to her breast? A
pearl-and-silver crucifix.


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