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Ewell, Martha Lewis Beckwith, 1841-1902

"The Harvest of Years"


Clara was better during this day, and while she took her after-dinner
nap, I came quickly down into Hal's studio, and seated myself in his
chair with a book.
Hal was in town all day on business, and I expected Mr. Benton to be
there, and he appeared, saying:
"You look very comfortable, Miss Minot; am I an intruder?"
"No, sir, you are the person I wish of all others to talk to." Where was
my guardian angel then?
"In need of advice, are you?"
"No, sir, not at all; I have some to give, however," and his eyes opened
widely, as he seated himself almost directly opposite me on a lounge,
taking a very artistic position, with his head resting on his hand, and
his arm supported by that of the lounge.
"Proceed, Miss Minot, for I assure you I am much in need of comfort, and
if you had been ready before, I might have been thankful to receive it."
I had begun more abruptly than I meant, and already felt I was stepping
on dangerous ground. I thought for an instant I would turn it aside in a
joke, then Clara's pale face rose before, and I said impetuously:
"I came to speak for another, though without her authority or knowledge.
I desire to ask you not to trouble Clara, by persisting in your suit."
He started to his feet as if a hand had struck him, walked a few steps,
and then turned toward me with a blanched face, and eyes that seemed to
be leaping from their sockets; he was struggling between anger and
policy. The latter prevailed, as he said:
"You are much interested in me; you fear that I shall have a friend.


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