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Roe, Edward Payson, 1838-1888

"A Young Girl's Wooing"

At last he expressed his wonder. "What nonsense!" she
exclaimed. "You don't remember the little I did write you. As I said
before, did you not at my request--very kindly and liberally, too,
Graydon--send me books about the places you expected to see? A child
could have read them and so have gained the information that surprises
you."
They talked on, one thing leading to another, until he had a conscious
glow of mental excitement. She knew so much that he knew, only in
a different way, and her thoughts came rippling forth in piquant,
musical words. Her eyes were so often full of laughter that he saw
that she was happy, and he remembered after their return that she had
not said an ill-natured word about any one. It was another of their
old-time, breezy talks, only larger, fuller, complete with her rich
womanhood. He found himself alive in every fibre of his body and
faculty of his mind.
As they turned homeward the evening shadows were gathering, and at
last the dusky twilight passed into a soft radiance under the rays of
the full-orbed moon.
"Oh, don't let us hasten home," pleaded poor Madge, who felt that this
might be her only chance to throw about him the gossamer threads which
would draw the cord and cable that could bind him to her.


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