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

"The Second Violin"

I'll give you ten minutes. I've the
prettiest sight to show you you've seen this year."
"I believe I'm too tired and sleepy to go," said Charlotte to Andy, as
he followed her up-stairs. "This week of commencing has about finished
me. Can't you excuse me to Fred? You go with them, if you like."
"I don't like, without you." Doctor Churchill was divesting himself of
white cravat and collar. "I know you're worn out, dear, but I think the
ride will brace you up. It's hot in the house to-night; it will be
blissfully cool out on the river road. Besides, Forester would be
disappointed. It isn't every night he comes for us with a pair of autos.
"If I were going all alone with you in the runabout--" sighed Charlotte,
with a languor unusual to her.
"I know, I'd like that better myself. But you needn't talk on this
trip--there are enough to keep things lively without you. You shall sit
next your big boy, and he'll hold your hand in the dark," urged Doctor
Churchill, artfully.
"On that condition, then," and Charlotte rose from among the pillows,
where she had sunk.
There was certainly something very refreshing about the swift motion in
the June air.


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