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"Is this where Mr. James A. Harrison lives?" she inquired briskly.
"No, Mr. Harrison lives over there," said Anne, quite lost in astonishment.
"Well, I did think this place seemed too tidy. . .much too tidy for James A.
to be living here, unless he has greatly changed since I knew him," chirped
the little lady. "Is it true that James A. is going to be married to some
woman living in this settlement?"
"No, oh no," cried Anne, flushing so guiltily that the stranger looked
curiously at her, as if she half suspected her of matrimonial designs on
Mr. Harrison.
"But I saw it in an Island paper," persisted the Fair Unknown. "A
friend sent a marked copy to me. . .friends are always so ready to
do such things. James A.'s name was written in over `new citizen.'"
"Oh, that note was only meant as a joke," gasped Anne. "Mr. Harrison
has no intention of marrying anybody. I assure you he hasn't."
"I'm very glad to hear it," said the rosy lady, climbing nimbly back
to her seat in the wagon, "because he happens to be married already.
I am his wife. Oh, you may well look surprised. I suppose he has
been masquerading as a bachelor and breaking hearts right and left.
Well, well, James A.," nodding vigorously over the fields at the
long white house, "your fun is over. I am here. . .though I wouldn't
have bothered coming if I hadn't thought you were up to some mischief.
I suppose," turning to Anne, "that parrot of his is as profane as ever?"
"His parrot. . .is dead. . .I think," gasped poor Anne, who
couldn't have felt sure of her own name at that precise moment.
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