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Crowley, Mary Catherine

"Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir"

But now she
noticed that May, after a quick look around, appeared startled and
anxious. The next moment the foolish girl exclaimed:
"O Mrs. Mahon, there are thirteen of us here! You do not like to have
thirteen persons at your table, do you? Pardon me, but I'm so nervous
about it!"
A shadow of annoyance flitted across Mrs. Mahon's motherly countenance,
but she answered gently: "My dear, I never pay any attention to the
superstition. Still a hostess will not insist upon making a guest
uncomfortable. Tom," she continued, addressing her youngest son, "you
will oblige me by taking your luncheon afterward."
Tom scowled at May, flung himself out of his chair, mumbled something
about "stuff and nonsense;" and, avoiding his mother's reproving
glance, went off in no amiable humor.
May was embarrassed, especially as she felt Miss Irene's grave eyes
fixed upon her. But Mrs. Mahon was too courteous to allow any one to
remain disconcerted at her hospitable board. With ready tact she
managed that the little incident should seem speedily forgotten. After
a momentary awkwardness the girls began to chatter merrily again, and
harmony was restored.


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