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Norris bought that invention of your brother's, would it make things easier for the Mill people?" Beryl jerked herself up on her elbow. "Red-Robin Forsyth, are you crazy? Fussing over that absurd toy of Dale's at this hour? Why should you care?" Beryl sank back into her pillows and stretched. "Didn't Mr. Kraus have the most glorious eyes?" Robin answered with amazing positiveness.
The old lady said the words slowly. "My real name is Gordon Forsyth, but I've always been called Red-Robin. I'm living at Gray Manor now over in Wassumsic. My father he's not one of the rich Forsyths, you see is an artist and he's travelling with Mr. Tony Earle, who writes, you know. I wish you could come to the Manor."
Though the girl's red hair like flame, as the lawyer had first thought, gave her an alive look, the little form under the queer straight dress was diminutive to frailty. "Who are you, my dear?" "Robin Forsyth. Jimmie calls me Red-Robin because I hop when I walk." "Is Jimmie your " "He's my Parent. Do you know Jimmie?" "N-no, not exactly."
Robin had so much to think about that night that she could not go to sleep. She did not want to go to sleep. Up to this day she had been just little Robin Forsyth, "Red-Robin," at Gray Manor to let Jimmie have his chance; happy, because Jimmie was having his chance and Beryl was with her and Beryl was unfailingly interesting. Now she realized that a Forsyth couldn't be just "anything."
What is the very most money I could spend all in one lump and can I spend it without telling anyone about it beforehand? There's an empty cottage just below where the Manor road crosses the river and Williams says the Forsyths own it. Can Beryl and I use it for a club? Your loving Red-Robin.
And please, please Jimmie, make Aunt Milly promise to take care of the birds and the flowers for they mustn't die. And you will write to me, won't you? Good-bye, Jimmie, don't forget your hot milk at night. Yours always and always, Red-Robin." She had just signed the letter when James Forsyth opened the door. She thrust it into her pocket as she turned to meet him.
To the north, to the east, to the west, stretches nothing but eternal ocean; so that the man-of-war hawk coming from the coasts of North America, Polynesia, or Peru, makes his first land at Rodondo. And yet though Rodondo be terra-firma, no land-bird ever lighted on it. Fancy a red-robin or a canary there!
He had gone there to wait while Madame Forsyth freshened herself after her long ride. And while he waited, in considerable apprehension, he planned the course he would follow; if Madame refused to accept little Red-Robin as her heir, because she was a girl and different, why, he'd take her back with him to his own home.
I shall be most interested in your experiment." "Then she was listening," thought Robin, wondering at the bitter tone in the woman's voice. "Maybe she's so lonely and so unhappy she hates to think of laughter." "Well, Red-Robin Forsyth, you certainly did spill everything you knew and a lot more besides," cried Beryl, when the two were alone. "As if a Queen cared a fig!
Lights twinkled from the Mill houses across the river. From the House of Laughter came the sound of singing. A young crescent of a moon shone silvery against a purple blue sky. "Little Red-Robin," cried Dale, suddenly, "Are you very sure?" "Sure of what?" Robin asked in a voice that trembled in spite of her. "Someday you will be a rich girl. I am a working-man. What will the world say?
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