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Reed, Myrtle, 1874-1911

"Old Rose and Silver"

Let her
tell you herself."
Rose nodded. "Then I'll come down just as soon as I can."
"With white gloves on, dear, and flags flying. Make your old aunt proud
of you now, won't you?"
"I'll try," she answered, humbly, then quickly closed the door.
Meanwhile Colonel Kent, most correctly attired, was making a formal call
upon his prospective daughter-in-law, and the list had scarcely been
begun. Isabel sat in the living room, trying not to show that she was
bored. The Colonel had come in, ready to receive her into his house and
his heart, but Isabel had shaken hands with him coolly, and accepted
shrinkingly the fatherly kiss he stooped to bestow upon her forehead.
He had tried several preliminary topics of conversation, which had been
met with chilling monosyllables, so he plunged into the heart of the
subject, with inward trepidation.
"I told Allison this morning that I owed him my thanks for bringing me a
daughter."
"Yes," said Isabel, placidly.
"The old house needs young voices and the sound of young feet," the
Colonel went on.
Isabel began to speak, then hesitated and relapsed into silence.


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