Her blushing face
was turned away toward the brawling stream; but she saw not its
foam, she heard not its hoarse murmurs. A sweeter music was in her
ears. She seemed under a delicious spell, but soon became
conscious that a pair of dark eyes were looking down eagerly,
anxiously for her answer. Shyly raising hers, that now were like
dewy violets, she said, with a little of her old witchery:
"I suppose you will have to kiss me this Thanksgiving, to make
things even."
Stanhope needed no broader hint.
"I owe you a heavy grudge," said Mr. Alford, in the evening. "A
year ago you robbed me of my child, for little, kittenish Elsie
became a thoughtful woman from the day you were here; and now you
are going to take away the daughter of my old age."
"Yes, indeed, husband. Now you know how my father felt," said Mrs.
Alford, at the same time wiping something from the corner of her
eye.
"Bless me, are you here?" said the old gentleman, wheeling round
to his wife. "Mr. Stanhope, I have nothing more to say."
"I declare," exulted George, "that 'horrid man' will devour Elsie
yet.
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