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Parrish, Randall, 1858-1923

"Bob Hampton of Placer"


He was coming back as he had promised; yet, ardently as he longed to
look into the eyes of his beloved, he shrank from the duty laid upon
him by the dead.
The familiar yellow house at the cross-roads appeared so unattractive
as to suggest the thought that Naida must have been inexpressibly
lonely during those months of waiting. He knocked at the sun-warped
door. Without delay it was flung open, and a vision of flushed face
and snowy drapery confronted him.
"Why, Lieutenant Brant! I was never more surprised in my life. Do,
pray, come right in. Yes, Naida is here, and I will have her sent for
at once. Oh, Howard, this is Lieutenant Brant, just back from his
awful Indian fighting. How very nice that he should happen to arrive
just at this time, is n't it?"
The young officer, as yet unable to discover an opportunity for speech,
silently accepted Mr. Wynkoop's extended hand, and found a convenient
chair, as Miss Spencer hastened from the room to announce his arrival.
"Why 'just at this time'?" he questioned.
Mr. Wynkoop cleared his throat. "Why--why, you see, we are to be
married this evening--Miss Spencer and myself.


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