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

"The Second Violin"

She's just full of sentimental
nonsense, and thinks it romantic and grown-up to steal out in the night
to meet some idiot of a boy--you can see that's all he is by his build.
Probably somebody we know, don't you think that's the best plan?"
"Yes, for to-night," agreed Evelyn, in a troubled whisper. "I feel as if
I ought to talk to her when she comes in, though."
"If you do you'll just make her angry. The thing is to let her go
uncaught until we can think what to do. Little simpleton!"
"I'll do as you say, but--don't be hard on her, Jeff. She's just silly;
she hasn't been brought up like your sisters."
"Or like you," thought Jeff, as he watched the figure before him flit
away toward the house. He followed at a distance, till he saw the door
close on Evelyn; then he went back to his post.
The next morning, as he and Evelyn walked down the road through the
apple-orchard toward the gateway, to open the rural-delivery mail-box,
which stood just outside the gate, Jeff told Evelyn what he had found
out.
"Nothing more serious than a simple case of spoon," he said, with an
expression at which Evelyn might have laughed if she had not felt so
disturbed.


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