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Freeman, Mary Eleanor Wilkins, 1852-1930

"Pembroke A Novel"

Thomas was older than Charlotte, but he looked younger.
It seemed, too, as if he looked younger when with her than at other
times, although he was always anxiously steady and respectful, and
lost much of that youthful dash which made him questioningly admired
by the young people of Pembroke.
Charlotte began at once after they were seated. Her fair, grave face
colored, her voice had in it a solemn embarrassment. "I don't know
but you thought I was doing a strange thing to ask you to come here
to-night," she said.
"No, I didn't; I didn't think so, Charlotte," Thomas declared,
warmly.
"I felt as if I ought to. I felt as if it was my duty to," said she.
She cast her eyes down. Thomas waited, looking at her with vague
alarm. Somehow some college scrapes of his flashed into his head, and
he had a bewildered idea the she had found them out and that her
sweet rigid innocence was shocked, and she was about to call him to
account.
But Charlotte continued, raising her eyes, and meeting his gravely
and fairly:
"You've been coming here three Sabbath evenings running, now," said
she.
"Yes, I know I have, Charlotte."
"And you mean to keep on coming, if I don't say anything to hinder
it?"
"You know I do, Charlotte," replied Thomas, with ardent eyes upon her
face.
"Then," said Charlotte, "I feel as if it was my duty to say this to
you, Thomas.


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