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Mason, Mary Murdoch

"Mae Madden"

The faint
mist in her left eye was forming into a bright, clear globe as large as
any April raindrop. Mae knew this, and knew it would fall, unless she
put up her hand and brushed it away, and that would be worse. The color
rose to her cheeks as she waited the dreadful moment. She was perfectly
still, her hands clasped before her, her head bent, as the crystal drop
gathered all the mist and halo in its full, round embrace, and
pattered down upon the third finger of her left hand--her wedding-ring
finger--and lay there, clear and sparkling as a diamond!
Norman Mann stooped and laid his hand over it. "You are glad, then!" "I
should be sorry to have you die," said Mae, but her dimples and blushes
and drooping eye-lids said, oh, a great deal more. "Good night," she
fluttered, and ran off.

CHAPTER X.

Mae dreamed happy dreams that night, and awoke with a smile on her lips.
She dressed with the greatest care, put a touch of the color Norman
liked at her throat, and fastened a charm he had given her to her
bracelet.


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