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Hill, Grace Livingston, 1865-1947

"The Girl from Montana"

Perhaps she had misjudged her. She must have done so if he
cared for her, for it could not be otherwise.
The joy had gone out of the morning when Elizabeth went home. She went up
to her Grandmother Bailey at once, and after she had read her letters for
her, and performed the little services that were her habit, she said:
"Grandmother, I'm expecting a man to call upon me to-day. I thought I had
better tell you."
"A man!" said Madam Bailey, alarmed at once. She wanted to look over and
portion out the right man when the time came. "What man?"
"Why, a man I met in Montana," said Elizabeth, wondering how much she
ought to tell.
"A man you met in Montana! Horrors!" exclaimed the now thoroughly aroused
grandmother. "Not that dreadful creature you ran away from?"
"O no!" said Elizabeth, smiling. "Not that man. A man who was very kind to
me, and whom I like very much."
So much the worse. Immediate action was necessary.
"Well, Elizabeth," said Madam Bailey in her stiffest tones, "I really do
not care to have any of your Montana friends visit you. You will have to
excuse yourself. It will lead to embarrassing entanglements. You do not in
the least realize your position in society. It is all well enough to
please your relatives, although I think you often overdo that. You could
just as well send them a present now and then, and please them more than
to go yourself. But as for any outsiders, it is impossible.


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