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Blackwood, Algernon, 1869-1951

"A Prisoner in Fairyland"

' The picture
grew big and gracious in her mind.
'I wonder what I shall do when my hair goes up?' she observed,
apparently _a propos de bottes_. It was the day, of course, eagerly,
almost feverishly, looked forward to.
'Hide your head in a bag probably,' laughed her sister. Jinny flushed;
her hair was not abundant. Yet she seemed puzzled rather than
offended.
'Never mind,' Rogers soothed her. 'The day a girl puts up her hair, a
thousand young men are aware of it,--and one among them trembles.' The
idea of romance seemed somehow in the air.
'Oh, Cousinenry!' She was delighted, comforted, impressed; but
perplexity was uppermost. Something in his tone of voice prevented
impudent comment from the others.
'And all the stars grow a little brighter,' he added. 'The entire
universe is glad.'
'I shall be a regular company promoter!' she exclaimed, nearer to wit
than she knew, yet with only the vaguest inkling of what he really
meant.
'And draw up a Memorandum of Agreement with the Milky Way,' he added,
gravely smiling.
He had just been going to say 'with the Pleiades,' when something
checked him. A wave of strange emotion swept him. It rose from the
depths within, then died away as mysteriously as it came. Like
exquisite music heard from very far away, it left its thrill of beauty
and of wonder, then hid behind the breath of wind that brought it.


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