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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Her Father's Daughter"

The other she
placed inside a case in the wall which formerly had been used for
billiard cues. At their second tap she opened the door. Eileen
was not at her best. There was a worried look across her eyes, a
restlessness visible in her movements, but Gilman was radiant.
"What do you think, Linda?" he cried. "Eileen has just named the
day!"
"I did no such thing," broke in Eileen.
"Your pardon, fair lady, you did not," said Gilman. "That was
merely a figure of speech. I meant named the month. She has
definitely promised in October, and I may begin to hunt a
location and plan a home for us. I want the congratulations of
my dear friend and my dearer sister."
Linda held out her hand and smiled as bravely as she could.
"I am very glad you are so pleased, John," she said quietly, "and
I hope that you will be as happy as you deserve to be."
"Now exactly what do you mean by that?" he asked.
"Oh, Linda prides herself on being deep and subtle and conveying
hidden meanings," said Eileen. "She means what a thousand people
will tell you in the coming months: merely that they hope you
will be happy."
"Of course," Linda hastened to corroborate, wishing if possible
to avoid any unpleasantness.
"You certainly have an attractive workroom here," said John,
"much as I hate to see it spoiled for billiards."
"It's too bad," said Linda, "that I have spoiled it for you for
billiards. I have also spoiled the outside appearance of the
house for Eileen.


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