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Murfree, Mary Noailles, 1850-1922

"The Ordeal A Mountain Romance of Tennessee"

Poor little
Archie! It was difficult indeed to think of him as dead! Gladys felt that
she must find some way to sustain Lillian.
"Why, what are we thinking of?" she exclaimed. "Julian Bayne will be half
frozen when he gets here. His room must be prepared--something hot to
drink, and something to eat. No, Lillian, you _mustn't_ ring the bell!
The servants have been at work all day, and have earned their rest. We
will just take this matter in charge ourselves. You go to the kitchen and
see if the fire has kept in the range. If not, make it up. You will find
wood at hand, laid ready for getting breakfast. Mrs. Marable, look in the
refrigerator, please, and see what there is for him to eat. I will get
out the bed linen and blankets, for he will be exhausted, no doubt."
But when she stood alone in the upper hall, at the door of the vacant
guest-room, the candle in her hand, Gladys had a sudden keen intimation
that she was herself but human, endowed with muscles susceptible of
overstrain, with nerves of sensitive fibre, with instincts importunate
with the cry of self-interest, with impulses toward collapse, tears,
terrors, anxieties--all in revolt against the sedulous constraint of
will.


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