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A Mountain Woman | Elia W. Peattie | |
Up the Gulch |
Page 3 of 13 |
"Oh, we're West, now," Kate said, exultantly. "I've seen a thousand types. But yet -- not quite THE type -- not the impersonation of simplicity and daring that I was looking for." The major didn't know quite what she was talking about. But he acquiesced. All he cared about was to see her grow stronger; and that she was doing every day. She was growing amazingly lovely, too, -- at least the major thought so. Every one looked at her; but that was, perhaps, because she was such a sylph of a woman. Beside the stalwart major, she looked like a fairy princess. One day she suddenly realized the fact that she had had a companion on the veranda for several mornings. Of course, there were a great many persons -- invalids, largely -- sitting about, but one of them had been obtruding himself persistently into her consciousness. It was not that he was rude; it was only that he was thinking about her. A person with a temperament like Kate's could not long be oblivious to a thing like that; and she furtively observed the offender with that genius for psychological perception which was at once her greatest danger and her charm. The man was dressed with a childish attempt at display. His shirt-front was decorated with a diamond, and his cuff-buttons were of onyx with diamond settings. His clothes were expensive and perceptibly new, and he often changed his costumes, but with a noticeable disregard for propriety. He was very conscious of his silk hat, and frequently wiped it with a handkerchief on which his monogram was worked in blue. |
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A Mountain Woman Elia W. Peattie |
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