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Augusta, Clara, 1839-1905

"The Fatal Glove"

She looked up, and
saw the face of Louis Castrani.
"Miss Harrison, you will, I trust, excuse me for seeking you here. But my
wish to see you was so strong, that, on my way to the White Mountains, I
left my party, and turned aside here, to gratify the desire. You know you
gave me permission?"
"I did; but I hardly thought you would take advantage of it."
"Perhaps I ought not to have done so. Indeed, I tried hard not to. Are
you very angry?"
"No, I am not angry at all. I am glad to see you." She held out her hand.
"So is Leo, too--only see him caper."
The dog was leaping upon Mr. Castrani, with the liveliest demonstrations
of joy. He patted the silky head.
"It is something to be welcomed by a brute, Miss Harrison; their
instincts are seldom at fault, I believe. Have you been well, Miss
Harrison?"
"Very well, thank you. And you? But I need not ask. Your looks answer for
you. When did you leave New York?"
"I have been in New York only a fortnight since I last saw you. Business
has kept me elsewhere. I came from New York three days ago. What a
beautiful spot you have hidden yourself in!"
"I am pleased to hear you say so. Isn't it lovely? But you must tell me
about home. How are all my friends?"
"They are well. How mellowy the sunshine falls on the rough crags
opposite, and what a picture for a painter to transfer to canvas!"
"Yes, I have wished I were an artist, over and over a gain.


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