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Updated: June 18, 2025
And if he hadn't why, you'd never have come to Highacres and we'd probably never have found that secret stairway nor the Bible nor the letter and wouldn't have known that you were really Jerauld Winton. Oh, it has magic!" Neither Isobel nor Jerry answered, nor did they smile after all, more than one name has been given to that strange Power that directs the little things which shape our living!
Jerry was quite willing to be tempted. She, too, had found it hard to hold her attention to the Thirty-one Dynasties. Gyp leaned toward her. "I'll tell you let's go exploring. There are all the rooms in the back we've never seen." During the past six months workmen had been rebuilding the rear wing of Highacres into laboratories. The changes had not been completed.
"And then I went away to Highacres " put in Jerry, loving the story as much as ever. "And I was alone in the garden our love had built, but I was not lonely I will not be lonely, for wherever you go you are my girl and I love you and you love me! Nothing can change that. And I shall leave the gate open it will always be open!" She said it slowly; her story was finished.
At times Gyp's tendency to get at the very root of things annoyed her older sister. "I don't care about dictionaries. Now that the school's going to be at Highacres we four want to always be very careful how we speak of Uncle Peter and act sort of dignified out there " "Rats!" cut in Graham, with scorn. "I say, Gyp that's my banner!"
"Everybody hated old Uncle Peter, he was such a cross old thing, and nobody ever wanted to go to Highacres, and then he turns it into a school and we'll all just love it and make songs about it " "And celebrate Uncle Peter's birthday with an entertainment or something," broke in Graham. "Maybe they'll even give us a holiday to show respect to his memory. Hurrah for old Bones!"
What sentiment had led Peter Westley to leave Highacres to the Lincoln School no one would ever know; perhaps deep in his queer old heart was an affection for his nephew Robert's children, who came dutifully to see him once or twice a year, but made no effort to conceal the fact that they thought it a dreadful bore.
Gyp and Jerry begged eagerly to go; Tibby had to take a swimming lesson; Graham was going out to Highacres to practice football; Isobel said she preferred to stay home; "one of the girls" had promised to call up, she explained, a little evasively. Mrs.
Breathless, the girls paused where they were on the grassy slope near the entrance of Highacres. A great elm spread over them and through its shimmering green a sunbeam shot across Ginny Cox's face, adding to the fire of its sternness. "Girls " she spread out her hands commandingly, "I don't know what you think but I think Jerry Travis is the best ever at Lincoln!
And though we do shed tears over the youth we tenderly lay aside, they are happy tears tears that sweeten and strengthen the spirit, too." "Well, I'm glad I have two more years at Highacres," cried Gyp, looking with pity at Isobel's thoughtful face. "And I'm glad," Isobel added, slowly, "that I decided to go to college. It must be dreadful to know that school is all over.
Then he added, in an off-hand way: "The ice broke on the lake out at Highacres to-day. Guess the skating's over." "Graham!" cried Mrs. Westley, springing to her feet so precipitously that her chair fell backward with a crash. Her face was deathly white. Graham, frightened by his careless remark, went to her quickly. "Mother I didn't mean to frighten you!
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