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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Bab: a Sub-Deb"


Nevertheless, I ate a fair supper. I felt that I needed Strength. It was
quite a grown-up supper, with boullion and creamed chicken and baked ham
and sandwitches, among other things. But of course they had to show it
was a `kid' party, after all. For instead of coffee we had milk.
Milk! When I was going through a tradgedy. For if it is not a tradgedy
to be engaged to a man one never saw before, what is it?
All through the refreshments I could feel that his eyes were on me. And
I hated him. It was all well enough for Jane to say he was handsome. She
wasn't going to have to marry him. I detest dimples in chins. I always
have. And anybody could see that it was his first mustache, and
soft, and that he took it round like a mother pushing a new baby in a
perambulater. It was sickning.
I left just after supper. He did not see me when I went upstairs, but
he had missed me, for when Hannah and I came down, he was at the door,
waiting. Hannah was loaded down with silly favors, and lagged behind,
which gave him a chance to speak to me. I eyed him coldly and tried to
pass him, but I had no chance.
"I'll see you tomorrow, DEAREST," he whispered.
"Not if I can help it," I said, looking straight ahead. Hannah had
dropped a stocking--not her own. One of the Xmas favors--and was
fumbling about for it.
"You are tired and unerved to-night, Bab. When I have seen your father
tomorrow, and talked to him----"
"Don't you dare to see my father."
"----and when he has agreed to what I propose," he went on, without
paying any atention to what I had said, "you will be calmer.


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