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Reed, Myrtle, 1874-1911

"Old Rose and Silver"

"She
couldn't--she's not that kind. What a brute I was even to think it! But
why, Dad? Please tell me why!"
"Francesca asked me this afternoon if I would come to her and Rose,
after the--afterwards, you know, and I promised."
"If you promised, I suppose that settles it," remarked Allison,
gloomily, "but I wish you hadn't. I can understand that they would want
you, too, for of course they'll be desperately lonely after Isabel goes
away."
A certain peace crept into the old man's sore heart. Surely there was
something to live for still.
"I hope you didn't tell Aunt Francesca you'd stay there always," Allison
was saying, anxiously.
"No," answered the Colonel, with a smile; "there was no limit
specified."
"Then we'll consider it only a visit and a short one at that--just until
they get a little used to Isabel's being away. This is your rightful
place, Dad, and Isabel and I both want you--don't ever forget that!"
When Allison had gone in search of his beloved, the Colonel sat on the
veranda alone, accustomed, now, to evenings spent thus. His garden
promised well, he thought, having produced two or three sickly roses in
the very first season.


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