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McCutcheon, George Barr, 1866-1928

"The Rose in the Ring"


When you came to be a man, with all that manhood meant to you, I felt
somehow that you would forget the little circus girl who--"
He kissed her. Then she was silent for a long time.
"Your mother was telegraphing me to-day to come," he said after a
time. "Did you know that she intended to do so?"
"No. I only knew that she would do it--soon. She had promised--both of
us, you know."
"Have you never asked her to send me the message?"
"Never! How could I? I would not have held you to the compact. Nor
would she."
"And have you not told her that you cared for me all these years?
Didn't she know?"
"Listen, David," she said seriously. "My mother has never spoken of
our compact. She did nothing to influence me. She was content to let
time take its course--and nature, too. Ah, how wise she is! But all
this time I have been conscious of a strange feeling that she was
making me over anew with but one object in view. She wanted me to be
all that you could expect, demand, exact, if you were to come some day
to--to look me over, to see if I was--was worth the effort. Yes,
David, she prepared me against this day.


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