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Widdemer, Margaret, 1884-1978

"The Wishing-Ring Man"

Then she went on to more. She had never thought that
Grandfather would help her this way!
They kept her at the harp most of the evening. From Grandfather's
poems she slid to some of Grandmother's old songs, plaintive old
things of Civil War days. She was earnestly trying to make her
guests and John's have as good a time as lay in her power, and she
never thought about Gail, quiet and quite out of the center of the
stage, at all.
Tiddy, rapt and worshipful, clung close to her till the evening was
over.
"I say," he told her when the others were going, "you--do you know,
you're wonderful! I--do you mind if I come over tomorrow? There's a
lot of things I'd like to ask you about Alton Havenith. I--could I?"
"Why, of course," said Joy, with her usual eager desire to do
anything nice she could for people.
He thanked her fervently, and went with obvious reluctance. Gail was
a little silent, even for her, who only talked when she chose. And
at last Joy and John were alone. She felt a little shy of him.
"I must go clear up," she said presently, as he did not speak,
moving toward the dining-room.
"You must not," he told her, with the affectionate note in his voice
she loved to hear. "I want to stay here and appreciate my princess a
little, and I can't do it well when she's away--or I don't want to.
Sit down, Joy. I scarcely ever see anything of you any more.... Dear
child, why on earth did you let Gail rampage all over the house this
way? You could have had a maid in from the village.


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