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Reed, Myrtle, 1874-1911

"Old Rose and Silver"

"
"Really? Why, please?"
"Oh, I don't know. You're so much more, well, grown-up, you know, and
more refined."
"Thank you, I'm glad the slight foreign polish distinguishes me
somewhat"
"Cousin Rose said you were very distinguished." She watched him narrowly
as she spoke.
"So is Cousin Rose. In fact, no one could be more so," he answered, with
evident approval.
"Is she going to play your accompaniments for you, when you begin the
season?"
A shadow crossed his face. "I'm afraid not. I wish she could."
"Why can't she?"
"On account of Madame Grundy. It wouldn't be proper."
"I don't see why," objected Isabel, daringly. "She's ten years older
than you are."
Allison bit his lips and the expression of his face subtly changed.
"You're ten years younger," he replied, coldly, "and I couldn't take
you. That doesn't make any difference."
Seeing that she had made a mistake, Isabel sat quietly in her chair and
watched the people around her until it was time to go. Greatly to her
delight, they went to the station in an automobile.
"Isn't this glorious!" she cried.


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