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Fox, John, 1863-1919

"The Trail of the Lonesome Pine"


"You are not well," she said quickly and kindly. "You must go to
your room at once. I am going to take care of you--you are MY
little sister now."
June lost the subtlety in Miss Hale's emphasis, but she fell with
instant submission under such gentle authority, and though she
could say nothing, her eyes glistened and her lips quivered, and
without looking to Hale, she followed his sister out of the room.
Hale stood still. He had watched the meeting with apprehension and
now, surprised and grateful, he went to Helen's parlour and waited
with a hopeful heart. When his sister entered, he rose eagerly:
"Well--" he said, stopping suddenly, for there were tears of
vexation, dismay and genuine distress on his sister's face.
"Oh, Jack," she cried, "how could you! How could you!"
Hale bit his lips, turned and paced the room. He had hoped too
much and yet what else could he have expected? His sister and June
knew as little about each other and each other's lives as though
they had occupied different planets. He had forgotten that Helen
must be shocked by June's inaccuracies of speech and in a hundred
other ways to which he had become accustomed.


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