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Esther : a book for girls by Rosa Nouchette Carey
page 19 of 281 (06%)
fellow! He had a Gloire de Dijon in his button-hole. I remember I
wondered vaguely how he had had the heart to pick it.

"How is he?" called out Uncle Geoffrey. And Fred started, for though
he was watching for us he had not seen us turn the corner of the lane.

"No better," was the disconsolate answer, as he unlatched the gate,
and stooped over it to kiss me. "We are expecting Allan down by the
next train, and Carrie asked me to look out for you; how do you do,
Esther? What have you done to yourself?" eyeing me with a mixture of
chagrin and astonishment. I suppose crying had not improved my
appearance; still, Fred need not have noticed my red eyes; but he was
one who always "looked on the outward appearance."

"She is tired and unhappy, poor little thing," repeated Uncle
Geoffrey, answering for me, as he drew my arm through his. "I hope
Carrie has got some tea for her;" and as he spoke Carrie came out in
the porch to meet us. How sweet she looked, the "little nun," as Fred
always called her, in her gray dress; with her smooth fair hair and
pale pretty face.

"Poor Esther, how tired you look!" she said, kissing me
affectionately, but quietly--Carrie was always a little
undemonstrative--"but I have got tea for you in the brown room" (we
always called it the brown room, because it was wainscoted in oak);
"will you have it now, or would you like to see mother?"

"You had better have tea first and see your mother afterward,"
observed Uncle Geoffrey; but I would not take this prudent counsel.
On the stairs I came upon Jack, curled up on a window-sill, with
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