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Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 1849-1924

"The Head of the House of Coombe"


"Good gracious, Andrews!" she said. "He was the 'shock'! How
perfectly ridiculous! Robin had never played with a boy before
and she fell in love with him. The little thing's actually pining
away for him." She dropped the grapes and gave herself up to
delicate mirth. "He was taken away and disappeared. Perhaps she
fainted and fell into the wet flower bed and spoiled her frock,
when she first realized that he wasn't coming."
"It did happen that morning," admitted Andrews, smiling a little
also. "It does seem funny. But children take to each other in a
queer way now and then. I've seen it upset them dreadful when they
were parted."
"You must tell the doctor," laughed Feather. "Then he'll see
there's nothing to be anxious about. She'll get over it in a week."
"It's five weeks since it happened, ma'am," remarked Andrews, with
just a touch of seriousness.
"Five! Why, so it must be! I remember the day I spoke to Mrs.
Muir. If she's that sort of child you had better keep her away from
boys. HOW ridiculous! How Lord Coombe--how people will laugh when
I tell them!"
She had paused a second because--for that second--she was not quite
sure that Coombe WOULD laugh. Frequently she was of the opinion
that he did not laugh at things when he should have done so. But
she had had a brief furious moment when she had realized that the
boy had actually been whisked away.


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