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Daviess, Maria Thompson, 1872-1924

"Phyllis"

A
motherless girl and a wifeless man ought not to be judged in the same
way other people are. I feel better now, and I'm leaving it all to
God, who understands such situations as mine and Father's. Good-night,
leather friend.
* * * * *
Somewhere back on your pages, Louise, I wrote that I was going to be
thankful for the happiness and friends that I had, no matter what
happened, and I am. It has happened. I am the lonely little child that
got a peep through the high, barred gate into the garden where other
children were playing in the sunshine, and then was put out into the
dark street again. I ought not to say that, though, when I have got
Mr. Douglass Byrd for a star in my darkness, as he has made himself by
the way he has treated me.
I am glad I stopped by on my way to school this morning to see Roxanne
and Lovelace Peyton while I was their light-hearted companion still:
now I am a woman of sorrows and disgrace. Also, I am glad, if the blow
had to be dealt me, it was Belle who did it, and not Mamie Sue nor one
of the two Willises, nor anybody else. I have always had a strange
feeling about that bracelet with the red set, anyway, and I am not
surprised that she struck me with it.


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