From there the coloured paper lanterns, swaying on the porch and
strung like fantastic necklaces across the lawn, were visible yet
not too near; far enough away to make it all look like an unreal,
colourful picture. And, above all, a round orange moon climbing up
the sky, covering the scene with light as with golden water, and
sending black shadows to crawl behind bushes and trees.
It was all very beautiful; and Mr. Briggs, though he didn't speak of
the scene at all, made a peculiarly delightful companion for that
setting. He was "interesting."
He talked easily and in a way that put her at her ease. She learned
that he and his sister, Louise, had stopped off in Cherryvale for a
few days; they were on their way back to their home in Keokuk, Iowa,
from a trip to California. Had Miss Merriam ever been in California?
No; she'd never been in California. Missy hated to make the
admission; but Mr. Briggs seemed the kind of youth not to hold it
against a pretty girl to give him a chance to exploit his travels.
She was a flattering listener. And when, after California had been
disposed of, he made a wide sweep to "the East," where, it
developed, he attended college--had Miss Merriam ever been back
East?
No; she'd never been back East.
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