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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Where There's a Will"

"I'll wait in the hall until you powder
your nose. You look like a fire that's been put out by a rain-storm."

I didn't want to go, but anything was better than sitting in the room
moping. I put on my jacket and Miss Patty's chinchillas, which cheered
me a little, but as we went downstairs the quiet of the place sat on my
chest like a weight.
The lower hall was empty. A new card headed "Rules" hung on the door
into the private office, but I did not read it. What was the use of
rules without people to disobey them? Mrs. Moody had forgotten her
crocheting bag and it hung on the back of a chair. I had to bite my lip
to keep it from trembling again.
"The Jenningses are still here," said the doctor. "The old man is madder
than any hornet ever dared be, and they go in the morning. But the
situation was too much for our German friend. He left with the others."
Well, we went out and I took the path I knew best, which was out toward
the spring-house. There wasn't a soul in sight. The place looked lonely,
with the trees hung with snow, and arching over the board walk. At the
little bridge over the creek Doctor Barnes stopped, and leaning over the
rail, took a good look at me.
"When you self-contained women go to pieces," he said, "you pretty near
smash, don't you? You look as if you'd had a death in your family."
"This WAS my family," I half sniveled.
"But," he said, "you'll be getting married and having a home of your own
and forgetting all about this.


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