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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Mary Marston"

It was not her doing; she would take what was sent her,
and enjoy it! But, at the sound of her own voice calling him Tom,
the blood rushed to her cheeks, and she felt their glow in the
heart of the chill-beating rain.
"What a night for you to be out in, Letty," responded Tom, taking
instant advantage of the right she had given him. "How lucky it
was I chose the right place to watch in at last! I was sure, if
only I persevered long enough, I should be rewarded."
"Have you been waiting for me long?" asked Letty, with foolish
acceptance.
"A fortnight and a day," answered Tom, with a laugh. "But I would
wait a long year for such another chance as this." And he pressed
to his side the hand upon his arm. "Fate is indeed kind to-
night."
"Hardly in the weather," said Letty, fast recovering her spirits.
"Not?" said Tom, with seeming pretense of indignation. "Let any
one but yourself dare to say a word against the weather of this
night, and he will have me to reckon with. It's the sweetest
weather I ever walked in. I will write a glorious song in praise
of showery gusts and bare commons."
"Do," said Letty, careful not to say Tom this time, but unwilling
to revert to Mr. Helmer, "and mind you bring in the umbrella."
"That I will! See if I don't!" answered Tom.
"And make it real poetry too?" asked Letty, looking archly round
the stick of the umbrella.


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