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Phillips, David Graham

"Susan Lenox"

When he had finished--a
matter of less than three minutes--he shook hands warmly first
with Susan, then with Jeb. "Live in the fear of the Lord," he
said. "That's all that's necessary."
Sallie put down her apron. Her face was haggard and gray. She
kissed Susan tenderly, then led her from the room. They went
upstairs to the bedroom. "Do you want to stay to dinner?" she
asked in the hoarse undertone of funeral occasions. "Or would
you rather go right away?"
"I'd rather go," said the girl.
"You set down and make yourself comfortable. I'll hook up your
shawl strap."
Susan sat by the window, her hands in her lap. The hand with the
new circlet of gold on it was uppermost. Sallie busied herself
with the bundle; abruptly she threw her apron over her face,
knelt by the bed and sobbed and uttered inarticulate moans. The
girl made no sound, did not move, looked unseeingly at her inert
hands. A few moments and Sallie set to work again. She soon had
the bundle ready, brought Susan's hat, put it on.
"It's so hot, I reckon you'll carry your jacket. I ain't seen as
pretty a blue dress as this--yet it's plainlike, too." She went
to the top of the stairs. "She wants to go, Jeb," she called
loudly. "You'd better get the sulky ready."
The answer from below was the heavy thump of Jeb's boots on the
oilcloth covering of the hall floor. Susan, from the window,
dully watched the young farmer unhitch the mare and lead her up
in front of the gate.


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