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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Her Father's Daughter"


"It puzzles me," said Linda slowly. "The more I think about it,
the less I can understand why, if we are sisters, we would not
accidentally resemble each other a tiny bit in some way, and I
must say I can't see that we do physically or mentally."
"No," said Katy, "ye were just as different as ye are now when I
came to this house new and ye were both little things."
"And we are going to be as different and to keep on growing more
different every day of our lives, because red war breaks out the
minute Eileen comes home. I haven't a notion what she will say
to me for what I did last night and what I am going to do in the
future, but I have a definite idea as to what I am going to say
to her."
"Now, easy; ye go easy, lambie," cautioned Katy.
"I wouldn't regret it," said Linda, "if I took Eileen by the
shoulders and shook her till I shook the rouge off her cheek,
and the brilliantine off her hair, and a million mean little
subterfuges out of her soul. You know Eileen is lovely when she
is natural, and if she would be straight-off-the-bat square, I
would be proud to be her sister. As it is, I have my doubts,
even about this sister business."
"Why, Linda, child, ye are just plain crazy," said Katy. "What
kind of notions are you getting into your head?"
"I hear the front door," said Linda, "and I am going to march
straight to battle. She's going up the front stairs. I did mean
to short-cut up the back, but, come to think of it, I have served
my apprenticeship on the back stairs.


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