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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Her Father's Daughter"

" All that paint and powder and
lipstick and brilliantine could do to make the ponderous, big
woman more ghastly had been done, but in the rush of the long
ride through which her husband had forced her, the colors had
mixed and slipped, the false waves were displaced. She was not
in any condition to criticize the appearance of another woman.
For one second Eileen hesitated, then she lifted her shaking
hands to her hat.
"I have been hounded out of my senses," she said apologetically,
"and have been so terribly anxious for fear you wouldn't get here
on time. Please, Aunt Caroline, let us go to a hotel, some place
where we can straighten up comfortably."
"Well, what's your hurry?" said Aunt Caroline coolly. "You're
not a fugitive from justice, are you? Can't a body rest a few
minutes and have a drink, even? Besides, I am going to see what
kind of a place you've been living in, and then I'll know how
thankful you'll be for what we got to offer."
Eileen turned and threw open the door. The big woman walked in.
She looked down the hall, up the stairway, and went on to the
living room. She gave it one contemptuous glance, and turning,
came back to the door.
"All right, Jim," she said brusquely. "I have seen enough. If
you know the best hotel in the town, take me there. And then, if
Eileen's in such a hurry, after we have had a bite we'll start
for home."
"Thank you, Aunt Caroline, oh, thank you!" cried Eileen.


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