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Updated: June 10, 2025
"Phil, I'd like to kill him wid a hoe, same as Marjie did that other rattlesnake that had Jim Conlow charmed an' flutterin' toward his pisen fangs, only we'd better wait a bit. By Saint Patrick, Philip, we can't hang up his hide yet awhoile. I know what the baste's up to annyhow." "Well, what is it?" I queried eagerly.
The wild roses were in her cheeks now, and the dew of teardrops on her downcast lashes. He said not a word, but laid the letter face downward in her lap. She put it in her pocket and rose to go. "If you need me, Marjie, I have a force to turn loose against your enemies, and ours. And you will need me. As a man in this community I can assure you of that.
It's a matter of great importance to my business. Also, it is serious with you. Begin at the party. Whose escort were you?" "Lettie Conlow's." My father looked me straight in the eyes. I returned his gaze steadily. "Go on. Tell me everything." He spoke crisply. "I was late to the party. Tillhurst asked Marjie for her company just as I went in.
At last the impulse to go down below and search for a letter from Marjie overcame me, although I laughed bitterly at the folly of such a notion. In the crevice where her letter had been placed for me the night before, I found nothing.
Her laughter rose, and his confusion with it. "Sure," she cried. "Aw aw, come on, Marjie." "Well, of all the nerve! My name's private property, it is." "It slipped. It said itself. But, gee! I like it. Marjie! Some little name." "Well, of all the nerve!" "Come on, black-eyes. You're off at five and we'll catch the five-eighteen. Who's going to be any the wiser?
"Marjie," he said, in a steady voice, which yet sounded unreal, not like his own, "I'm going. Good-bye. I love you with my whole soul; I always will. I shan't be able to hear from you, but I'll write you as often as I can. Don't worry if there are long intervals between letters. And, Marjie, don't believe too easily that I'm dead.
Watching Marjie coming down the street one spring morning Cam declared solemnly: "The War's done decided, an' the Union has won. A land that can grow girls like Marjory Whately's got the favorin' smile of the Almighty upon it." For us that season all the world was gay and all the skies were opal-hued, and we almost forgot sometimes that there could be sorrow and darkness and danger.
"So the letters intimated, but added that the Melrose blood is persistent, and that Rachel's mother was especially willing. She is of a good family, old friends of Candace's and mine. She will have money in her own right, is handsome and well educated. I thought you might be satisfied there." "But I don't care for her money nor anybody else's. Nobody but Marjie will ever suit me," I cried.
I was as tall then as I am now, and Marjie at her full height came only to my shoulder. I stooped to lay that dainty string of blossoms above her brow. They fell into place in her wavy hair and nestled there, making a picture only memory can keep. The air was very sweet and the whole prairie about the little draw was still and dewy.
When we were clear of town, and the open plain swept by the summer breezes gave freedom from the heat, Marjie asked: "Where is Lettie Conlow going on such a hot afternoon?" "Nowhere, is she? She was talking to you at the courthouse."
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