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MacDonald, George, 1824-1905

"Mary Marston"

"If my aunt
were to turn me out of the house, your mother would not take me
in!"
Letty was not herself now; she was herself and Tom--by no means a
healthful combination.
"My mother won't be mistress long," answered Tom. "She will have
to do as I bid her when I am one-and-twenty, and that will be in
a few months." Tom did not know the terms of his father's will.
"In the mean time we must keep quiet, you know. I don't want a
row--we have plenty of row as it is. You may be sure _I_
shall tell no one how I spent the happiest hour of my life. How
little circumstance has to do with bliss!" he added, with a
philosophical sigh. "Here we are in a wretched hut, roared and
rained upon by an equinoctial tempest, and I am in paradise!"
"I must go home," said Letty, recalled to a sense of her
situation, yet set trembling with pleasure, by his words. "See,
it is getting quite dark!"
"Don't be afraid, my white bird," said Tom. "I will see you home.
But surely you are as well here as there anyhow! Who knows when
we shall meet again? Don't be alarmed; I'm not going to ask you
to meet me anywhere; I know your sweet innocence would make you
fancy it wrong, and then you would be unhappy. But that is no
reason why I should not fall in with you when I have the chance.
It is very hard that two people who understand each other can not
be friends without other people shoving in their ugly beaks!
Where is the harm to any one if we choose to have a few minutes'
talk together now and then?"
"Where, indeed?" responded Letty shyly.


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