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Updated: May 8, 2025
These adorned the sloping bank, interspersed with rock, and turned the blue depths to green as they leaned toward the water as if in the effort to catch their own lovely reflections. "We'll get out here and walk up to the house, Cap'n," said Thinkright. "Tell Mrs. Lem we'll be there by supper time. We had our luncheon on the road."
Little by little, by gentle implications, Thinkright had conveyed to her that there was to be no thought of her leaving him; and her love moved her strongly to do his bidding and win his approval. "He doesn't do it for my sake. He does it for God and mother," she reflected, as often as some new proof of his thought for her appeared.
"She must have bewitched him, and what could he have meant by 'The Rosy Cloud, and why should she blush over it?" Thinkright walked to the house with the visitor a few minutes later, while Cap'n Lem stayed to put up the horses and Sylvia lingered to examine her light oars. "Calvin's outdone himself," remarked Miss Martha. "He must have taken a great fancy to her."
"Not by me, and it's not likely by Thinkright." "It must be so! She can't have any money." The girl paused to swallow. Judge Trent regarded her, the corners of his mouth drawn down, at a loss to understand her manner, and ready to defy whatever accusation she was about to bring against him.
"Yes, this is the Hawk Island Miss Derwent. I've heard the other side from Thinkright. I lived over on the island summers when she and her pa and ma used to be there together, but I never knew any of 'em.
"Oh, you know I'm a creature of impulse," returned the lawyer, with his dry smile; "I acted with my usual lack of calculation. Made up my mind to come one minute, and took the train the next." Thinkright did not reply, but glanced toward Sylvia, who was pulling the blue sweater off over her head.
Now, I'm not penniless, my little cousin. Just at present you're my guest." "Oh, am I really, Cousin Thinkright?" cried the girl eagerly. "Surely you are." "Then I can begin to have a good time right off," she exclaimed, her white cheeks flushing as she took his arm in her relief. He smiled as they walked slowly up the incline. "Always have a good time," he said.
He looked at Dunham, who sedulously did not look at him. The young man was thinking of a mignonne face as he had last seen it with quivering lips, trying to smile in response to his encouraging parting words. At last the judge spoke: "Well, Thinkright took her up there." "Ah?" responded Dunham.
There was Minty, her round eyes staring, and her lips pursed; and there was No, Sylvia shook her head. There was not Thinkright. As she looked fondly and wistfully at the retreating hair and short beard, the horizontal lines in the brow and the deep-set eyes, she knew that what made her cousin's face precious was not to be conveyed by pencil or brush.
This riante dryad of the birches could be nothing to him. "Shows a small disposition, though, after all these years," he added after the brief pause. "Don't you think so? Nursing injuries and bearing malice and all that sort of business?" The smile died from Sylvia's face. She half averted it, and trailed her fingers through the quiet ripples. "Thinkright says so," she answered.
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