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Abbott, Jane, 1881-

"Red-Robin"

And the Mill people were feeling it now.
Turning these thoughts over and over, Beryl suddenly faced the
disturbing conviction that she was moulding her own young life on very
opposite lines. Tell herself as often as she liked--and it was
often--that she'd had to fight to get everything she had and to keep it,
she knew that it never crossed her mind to ask herself what she was
giving--to Dale, who carried a double burden, to poor big Danny, to her
brave little mother who had sheltered her so valiantly from the
coarsening things about her that she might keep "fine" and have "fine"
things.
The next day the nurse let Robin dress, to poor Harkness' tearful
delight. And Robin, roaming the house as though she had returned to it
from a long absence, found, indeed, the change she had prophesied. For
Mrs. Budge, in strangely genial mood, was fussily preparing more
delectable invalid dishes than a dozen convalescing Susies or well
Robins could possibly eat.
One little cloud, however, shadowed Budge's relief. She wished she
hadn't sent the letter to the lawyer-man. "If I'd remembered how my
grandmother always said to look out for the written word, and held my
tongue," she mourned and so complete was her transformation that she
forgot she had written that letter while in full pursuit of her duty to
the Forsyths--as she had seen it then.


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