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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Eben Holden, a tale of the north country"

'
'And how about her?' I asked, my arm still about her waist.
'If she really loves him,' Hope answered, 'she would put her arms
about his neck and lay her head upon his shoulder, so; and then he
might say what is in the story.' She was smiling now as she looked
up at me.
'And kiss her?'
'And kiss her,' she whispered; and, let me add, that part of the
scene was in nowise neglected.
'And when he says: "will you wait for me and keep me always in
your heart?" what should be her answer,' I continued.
'Always!' she said.
'Hope, this is our own story,' I whispered. 'Does it need any further
correction?'
'It's too short - that's all,' she answered, as our lips met again.
Just then Uncle Eb opened the door, suddenly.
'Tut tut!' he said tuning quickly about
'Come in, Uncle Eb,' said Hope, 'come right in, we want to see you.
In a moment she had caught him by the arm.
'Don' want 'o break up the meetin',' said he laughing.
'We don't care if you do know,' said Hope, 'we're not ashamed of it.


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