(She used to
envy Kitty Allen her tangling, light-catching curls till Raymond
Bonner chanced to remark he considered curly hair "messy looking";
but Raymond's approval, for some reason, doesn't seem to count for
as much as it used to, and, anyway, he is spending the summer in
Michigan.) However, just below that too-demure parting, the eyes are
such as surely to give her no regret. Twin morning-glories, we would
call them-grey morning-glories!--opening expectant and shining to
the Sun which always shines on enchanted seventeen. And, like other
morning-glories, Missy's eyes are the shyest of flowers, ready to
droop sensitively at the first blight of misunderstanding. That is
the chiefest trouble of seventeen: so few are there, especially
among old people, who seem to "understand." And that is why one must
often retire to the summerhouse or other solitary places where one
can without risk of ridicule let one's dreams out for air.
Presently she shook off her dreams and returned to the scarcely less
thrilling periodical which had evoked them. Here was another
photograph--though not nearly so alluring as that of the Lady
Sylvia; a woman who had become an authoritative expounder of
political and national issues--politics again! Missy proceeded to
read, but her full interest wasn't deflected till her eyes came to
some thought-compelling words:
"It was while yet a girl in her teens, in a little Western town
("Oh!" thought Missy), that Miss Carson mounted the first rung of
the ladder she has climbed to such enviable heights.
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