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Allen, James Lane, 1849-1925

"The Mettle of the Pasture"

He never
said so. He has never cared for society. He has seemed absorbed
in his studies. And now--Dent in love. Dent engaged, Dent to be
married in the autumn--why, Rowan, am I dreaming, am I in my
senses? And to this girl! She has entrapped him--poor, innocent,
unsuspecting Dent! My poor, little, short-sighted bookworm."
Tears sprang to her eyes, but she laughed also. She had a mother's
hope that this trouble would turn to comedy. She went on quickly:
"Did you know anything about this? Has he ever spoken to you about
it?"
"No, I am just as much surprised. But then Dent never speaks in
advance."
She looked at him a little timidly: "I thought perhaps it was this
that has been troubling you. You have been trying to hide it from
me."
He dropped his eyes quickly and made no reply.
"And do you suppose he is in earnest, Rowan?"
"He would never jest on such a subject."
"I mean, do you think he knows his own mind?"
"He always does."
"But would he marry against my wishes?"
"He takes it for granted that you will be pleased: he said so."
"But how can he think I'll be pleased? I have never spoken to this
girl in my life. I have never seen her except when we have passed
them on the turnpike. I never spoke to her father but once and
that was years ago when he came here one cold winter afternoon to
buy a shock of fodder from your father."
She was a white character; but even the whiteness of ermine gains
by being necked with blackness.


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