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by:
Margaret Penrose
CHAPTER I DOROTHY The day of days had come at last: Dorothy would be the Daughter of theRegiment. "Lucky you don't have to curl your hair, Doro, for the fog is like rain, and that's the worst kind for made curls," said Tavia. "Oh, I do hope it is not going to rain!" "No, it surely won't. But come, don't let's be late." "There's heaps of time,...
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by:
Sophie May
CHAPTER I. BEGINNING TO REMEMBER. Katie Clifford was a very bright child. She almost knew enough to keep out of fire and water, but not quite. She looked like other little girls, only so wise,—O, so very wise!—that you couldn't tell her any news about the earth, or the sun, moon, and stars, for she knew all about it "byfore." Her hair was soft and flying like corn-silk, and when the...
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by:
Evelyn Raymond
CHAPTER I A BIG GIFT FOR A SMALL MAID. “Well, of all things!” exclaimed Mrs. Betty Calvert, shaking her white head and tossing her hands in a gesture of amazement. Then, as the letter she had held fell to the floor, her dark eyes twinkled with amusement and she smilingly demanded: “Dorothy, do you want an elephant?” The girl had been reading her own letters, just come in the morning’s mail,...
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by:
Margaret Penrose
CHAPTER I TWO YOUNG GIRLS "And you are quite sure, daddy, I am not dreaming? That I am sitting right here with my arms around your neck, and you have just told me it is all perfectly true?" And, to make still more certain that the whole matter was one of unquestionable reality, the girl gave her parent such a flesh and blood hug that a physical answer came to her question in the shape of a...
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by:
Evelyn Raymond
CHAPTER I ON THE TRAIN “Maryland, my Maryland!” dreamily hummed Dorothy Calvert. “Not only your Maryland, but mine,” was the resolute response of the boy beside her. Dorothy turned on him in surprise. “Why, Jim Barlow, I thought nothing could shake your allegiance to old New York state; you’ve told me so yourself dozens of times, and—” “I know, Dorothy; I’ve thought so myself, but...
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by:
Sanford Kossin
DEAR EXCELLENCY: The communicating time will be here soon. I have started this letter early to be sure it will be ready. This is the first time I have felt safe when communicating with you. Our enemies at home can solve such extraordinarily complex ciphers that I have always been uneasy before. They cannot possibly solve an entirely new language like this one; a language based on an utterly different...
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by:
Orson Lowell
The Persons of the Story: FLORIAN AMIDON, a respectable young banker of literary and artistic tastes. EUGENE BRASSFIELD, for a description of whose peculiarities the reader is referred to the text. ELIZABETH WALDRON, a young woman just out of school. JUDGE BLODGETT, an elderly lawyer. MADAME LE CLAIRE, a professional occultist. PROFESSOR BLATHERWICK, her father, a German scientist. DAISY SCARLETT, a...
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A Daughter of Eve. “Mother!” There was no reply, and once again rose from the bed in the prettily-furnished room the same word—“Mother!” The wild, appealing, anguished cry of offspring to parent, seeming to ask for help—protection—forgiveness—the tenderness of the mother-heart to its young, and still there was no answer. The speaker struggled up so that she rested on her elbow, the...
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by:
Amy Brooks
CHAPTER I OFF TO GLENMORE The Stone House looked as fine, and its gardens as gay with flowers, as when the members of the household were to be at home for a season, for it always seemed at those times as if the blossoming plants did their best, because sure of loving admiration. But something entirely new was about to happen; something that made Dorothy Dainty catch her breath, while her dearest...
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