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Richmond, Grace S. (Grace Smith), 1866-1959

"The Second Violin"


"Absolutely nothing more, that I can see," agreed Mrs. Birch, taking up
her wraps from the chair on which they lay. "You can run over and light
up at the last minute. Really, how long it seems yet to seven o'clock!"
"Doesn't it? And how good it will be to get the dear girl back! Well,
the first month has gone by, mother dear. The worst is over."
Celia spoke cheerfully, but her words were not quite steady. Mrs. Birch
glanced at her.
"You've been a brave daughter," she said, with the quiet composure which
Celia understood did not always cover a peaceful heart. "We shall all
grow used to the change in time. I think sometimes we're not half
thankful enough to have Charlotte so near."
"Oh, I think we are!" Celia protested.
"The children have had a beautiful month. Haven't their letters
been--What's that?"
It was nothing more startling than the front door-bell, but this was so
seldom rung at the bachelor doctor's house, where everybody who wanted
him at all wanted him professionally at the office, that it sent Celia
hastily and anxiously to the door. It was so impossible at this hour,
when the travellers were almost home, not to dread the happening of
something to detain them.


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