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Hill, Grace Livingston, 1865-1947

"The Girl from Montana"

The skirt-band was too tight, and the gloves were torture.
Elizabeth turned slowly, and went down-stairs, past the admiring aunt and
grandmother, who exclaimed at the girl's beauty, now that she was attired
to their mind, and encouraged her by saying they were sure her grandmother
would want to do something for so pretty a girl.
Lizzie called out to her not to worry, as she flew for her car. She said
she had heard there was a variety show in town where they wanted a girl
who could shoot. If she didn't succeed with her grandmother, they would
try and get her in at the show. The girls at the store knew a man who had
charge of it. They said he liked pretty girls, and they thought would be
glad to get her. Indeed, Mary James had promised to speak to him last
night, and would let her know to-day about it. It would likely be a job
more suited to her cousin's liking.
Elizabeth shuddered. Another man! Would he be like all the rest?--all the
rest save one!
She walked a few steps in the direction she had been told to go, and then
turned resolutely around, and came back. The watching grandmother felt her
heart sink. What was this headstrong girl going to do next? Rebel again?
"What's the matter, Bessie?" she asked, meeting her anxiously at the door.
"It's bad luck to turn back when you've started."
"I can't go this way," said the girl excitedly. "It's all a cheat. I'm not
like this. It isn't mine, and I'm not going in it.


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