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?©, Lyda Farrington

"We Ten Or, The Story of the Roses"

'"]
Willing! I thought of what had happened in the study that
afternoon--poor old _pater_! I felt like saying something sharp to
Miss Nora, but it was actually too much trouble to speak; I was so
tired, and the chair was so comfortable, that I did not want even
to think of any exertion.
By this time Nannie had found her duet, and she came and stood by my
chair, looking anxiously at me. "Fee, dear," she said in an undertone,
"don't you feel well? Tell me." Her fingers stole up and gently stroked
the hair behind my ear. "Tell me, Fee," she pleaded.
"I only want--to be let alone," I said, but not unkindly. I didn't mean
to be disagreeable to her, and I think she understood,--she is so quick
of comprehension!
At this moment there was an outcry from one of the fencers. "If you
aren't the meanest girl I know!" cried Jack. "You don't seem to care
how much you hurt a person. I won't play another minute, now, then!"
and his stick rattled on the floor.
"She's given me a horrid poke in the ribs," he said, coming over to
Nannie, with his hand pressed to his side. "I tell you now, it hurts;
and she doesn't care a rap,--rough thing!"
Betty was laughing immoderately.


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