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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"

The end was ever the same--he only knew he loved
her.
He recalled long the plainly furnished room into which Mrs. Herndon
ushered him to await the girl's appearance--the formal look of the
old-fashioned hair-cloth furniture, the prim striped paper on the
walls, the green shades at the windows, the clean rag carpet on the
floor. The very stiffness chilled him, left him ill at ease. To calm
his spirit he walked to a window, and stood staring out into the warm
sunlight. Then he heard the rustle of Naida's skirt and turned to meet
her. She was pale from her weeks of nursing, and agitated for fear of
what this unexpected call might portend. Yet to his thought she
appeared calm, her manner restrained. Nor could anything be kinder
than her first greeting, the frankly extended hand, the words
expressive of welcome.
"Mr. Wynkoop informed me a few minutes ago that you had at last
received your orders for the north," she said, her lips slightly
trembling. "I wondered if you would leave without a word of farewell."
He bowed low. "I do not understand how you could doubt, for I have
shown my deep interest in you even from the first.


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