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Rice, Alice Caldwell Hegan, 1870-1942

"The Honorable Percival"

"
"I told the captain," sobbed Bobby, beating her hands together and
apparently oblivious of interruptions, "that I'd come on this trip with
him, but that it wouldn't make a bit of difference, and it hasn't."
"No, of course it hasn't," agreed Percival, soothingly, not in the least
comprehending the drift of her remarks, but pleasantly aware that he was
being confided in and that something very limp and lovely was under his
protection.
"Isn't there a--a--Mrs. Ford on the ranch?" he asked by way of
prolonging the interview.
"Not now. Dear Aunt Kitty died four years ago. That was when they sent
me in to Cheyenne to school. But I'm finished now, and I'm going to stay
on the ranch and take care of Pa Joe and the boys."
"Can't say it sounds exciting. How many children are there?"
"Children! Why, they are all as tall as you are, except Piffles. There's
Ted, and Dick, and Piffles, and--Hal. I guess you saw Hal that day at
the station."
For the first time since he had known her, her black lashes drooped
consciously over her blue eyes. They were very long and thick lashes,
and as they swept her flushed cheek, Percival not only forgot what she
was saying, but went so far as to forget himself.
"I saw only one thing that day at the station," he said, with such an
ardent look that it made Bobby smile through her tears. As a rule he
disliked dimples, especially the stationary kind. But the one that now
occupied, his attention was a very shy and elusive affair that kept the
beholder watching very closely for fear he should miss it.


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