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Updated: May 14, 2025
His picture, "Sunset in Marshland" had been lowered a little on the wall, and directly over it hung a photograph of Mildred Brown. To Dorian's questioning look, Mrs. Trent explained, that Mrs. Brown had sent it just the other day. Dorian looked closely at the beautiful picture, and a strange feeling came over him.
More than one of the discerning Greenstreet girls laid their caps for the big, handsome young fellow. And Dorian's thoughts, we must know, were not all the time occupied with the philosophy of Orson Pratt. He was a very natural young man, and there were some very charming girls in Greenstreet.
All the evening at home and during their walk back he was unusually silent, and Carlia could only look at him with questioning anxiety. Spring, once started, came on with a rush. The melting snow filled the river with a muddy flood; the grass greened the slopes; the bursting willows perfumed the air; the swamp awakened to the warm touch of the sun. Dorian's busy season also began.
I can see no other logical conclusion." The chairs were now pushed back, and Mrs. Trent threw a cloth over the table just as it stood, explaining that she would not take the time from her company to devote to the dishes. She invited them into Dorian's little room, much to that young man's uneasiness. His mother had tidied the room, so it was presentable.
These, evidently, had been selected for Dorian's special benefit, and so he settled himself comfortably to read them. The very first paper was in the old man's own hand, and was a dissertation on "Faith." and read thus: "Some people say that they can believe only what they can perceive with the senses. Let us see: The sun rises, we say. Does it? The earth is still. Is it?
Everything which was to be served was on the table in plain sight, so that all could nicely guage their eating to various dishes. When all were well served and the eating was well under way, Mrs. Trent said: "Brothers and sisters, this is Dorian's birthday party. He has been a mighty good boy, and so " "Mother," interrupted the young man. "Now, you never mind you be still.
"Yes is she here!" "No." "Do you know where she is?" "No, I don't." Dorian's hopes fell. "But tell me what you know about her you know something." "It was the latter part of August when she came to us. She had walked from town, an' she said she was wanting a place to work. As she was used to farm life, she preferred to work at a country home, she said." "Was she a dark-haired, rosy-cheeked girl?"
But Carlia could neither balance nor run. She stood for a moment on the oscillating span, then threw up her hands, and with a scream she plunged into the waters of the canal. No thought of danger had entered Dorian's mind as he stood watching the capers of the children. If any of them fell in, he thought, they would only get a good wetting. But as Carlia fell, he sprang forward.
Complete forgetfulness of what had been, was, of course, impossible, either for Carlia or for Dorian; but he tried manfully not to let the "specter" come too often between him and the girl he loved. He frequently told her that he loved her, but it was done by simple word or act. Dorian's greater knowledge gave him the advantage over her.
It was all done so suddenly, and the fighting was so fierce, that Dorian's fellow travelers did not get to the scene before Jack Lamont lay prone on the ground from Dorian's finishing knockout blow. "Damn him!" said Dorian, as he shook himself back into a somewhat normal condition and spat red on the ground. "He's got just a little of what's been coming to him for a long time. Let him alone.
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