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Rinehart, Mary Roberts, 1876-1958

"Bab: a Sub-Deb"

"
"Barbara, sometimes I think you have no afection for your Sister."
I had agreed to honesty January first, so I replied.
"I have, of course, mother. But I am fonder of her while at school than
at home. And I should be a better Sister if not condemed to her old
things, including hats which do not suit my Tipe."
Mother moved over magestically to the door and shut it. Then she came
and stood over me.
"I've come to the conclusion, Barbara," she said, "to appeal to your
better Nature. Do you wish Leila to be married and happy?"
"I've just said, mother----"
"Because a very interesting thing is happening," said mother, trying to
look playfull. "I--a chance any girl would jump at."
So here I sit, Dear Dairy, while there are sounds of revelery below, and
Sis jumps at her chance, which is the Honorable Page Beres ford, who is
an Englishman visiting here because he has a weak heart and can't fight.
And father is away on business, and I am all alone.
I have been looking for a rash, but no luck.
Ah me, how the strains of the orkestra recall that magic night in the
theater when Adrian Egleston looked down into my eyes and although
ostensably to an actress, said to my beating heart: "My Darling! My
Woman!"

3 A. M. I wonder if I can controll my hands to write.
In mother's room across the hall I can hear furious Voices, and I know
that Leila is begging to have me sent to Switzerland. Let her beg.
Switzerland is not far from England, and in England----
Here I pause to reflect a moment.


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