But--
And, now, here it was in Tess's adorable attic (full of treasures
discarded by departed tenants of the old Smith place) that Missy
turned one of Life's milestones and met "the Duchess."
Missy had loved to read the Bible (good stories there, and beautiful
words that made you tingle solemnly); and fairy tales never old;
and, almost best of all, the Anthology, full of poetry, that made
you feel a strange live spirit back of the wind and a world of
mysteries beyond the curtain of the sky.
But this--
The lure of letters was turned loud and seductive as the Blue Danube
played on a golden flute by a boy king with his crown on!
Tess glanced up from her reading.
"How's your book?" she enquired.
"Oh, it's wonderful," breathed Missy.
"Mine, too. Here's a description that reminds me a little of you."
"Me?" incredulously.
"Yes. It's about the heroine--Phyllis. She's not pretty, but she's
got a strange, underlying charm."
Missy held her breath. She was ashamed to ask Tess to read the
description of the strangely charming heroine, but Tess knew what
friendship demanded, and read:
"'I am something over five-feet-two, with brown hair that hangs in
rich chestnut tresses far below my waist.
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