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Hill, Grace Livingston, 1865-1947

"The Girl from Montana"

"Not
on a horse?"
"Yes."
"H'm! What was your ma thinkin' about to let you do that?"
"My mother is dead. There was no one left to care what I did. I had to
come. There were dreadful people out there, and I was afraid."
"Fer the land sakes!" That seemed the only remark that the capable Mrs.
Brady could make. She looked at her new granddaughter in bewilderment, as
if a strange sort of creature had suddenly laid claim to relationship.
"Well, I'm right glad to see you," she said stiffly, wiping her hand again
on her apron and putting it out formally for a greeting.
Elizabeth accepted her reception gravely, and sat down. She sat down
suddenly, as if her strength had given way and a great strain was at an
end. As she sat down, she drooped her head back against the wall; and a
gray look spread about her lips.
"You're tired," said the grandmother, energetically. "Come far this
morning?"
"No," said Elizabeth, weakly, "not many miles; but I hadn't any more
bread. I used it all up yesterday, and there wasn't much money left. I
thought I could wait till I got here, but I guess I'm hungry."
"Fer the land sakes!" ejaculated Mrs. Brady as she hustled out to the
kitchen, and clattered the frying-pan onto the stove, shoving the boiler
hastily aside. She came in presently with a steaming cup of tea, and made
the girl drink it hot and strong. Then she established her in the big
rocking-chair in the kitchen with a plate of appetizing things to eat, and
went on with her washing, punctuating every rub with a question.


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