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Reed, Myrtle, 1874-1911

"Old Rose and Silver"

They're
almost eating their heads off and the exercise would do them good."
"Thank you," she answered, shortly. Allison noted the veiled sharpness
of her tone and wondered why anyone should take even slight offence at
the friendly offer of a coach and pair.
"It must be nearly time for the next train," he resumed. "Is there
anyone at the station to meet Isabel?"
"Nobody but the coachman and the carriage," returned Madame, dryly. "I'm
not in the habit of being asked whether or not I have made proper
provision for my guests."
"I beg your pardon, Aunt Francesca. I would have known, of course, if I
had stopped to think."
"How is your father?" she put in, abruptly.
"All right, I guess. He's making a garden and the whole front yard is
torn up as though sewer pipes were about to be put in."
Madame's heart softened with pity, for she knew that only loneliness
would have set the Colonel to gardening. "I must go over and see it,"
she said, in a different tone. "My valuable advice hasn't been asked,
but I think I could help a little."
"Undoubtedly. Your own garden is one of the loveliest I have ever seen.


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