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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"A Phyllis of the Sierras"

Do you suppose it wasn't known at
Oldenhurst that Frank had quite compromised himself with Miss Macy over
there?"
"It certainly was not known 'over there,'" said Bradley, curtly.
"Don't be angry with me."
Such an appeal from the tall, indifferent woman at his side, so
confidently superior to criticism, and uttered in a low tone, made him
smile, albeit uneasily.
"I only meant to congratulate you," she continued carelessly.
"Dunshunner is not a bad sort of fellow, and will come into a good
property some day. And then, society is so made up of caprice, just
now, that it is well for your wife's cousin to make the most of her
opportunities while they last. She is very popular now; but next
season--" Seeing that Bradley remained silent, she did not finish
the sentence, but said with her usual abruptness, "Do you know a Miss
Araminta Eulalie Sharpe?"
Bradley started. Could any one recognize honest Minty in the hopeless
vulgarity which this fine lady had managed to carelessly import into her
name? His eye kindled.
"She is an old friend of mine, Lady Canterbridge."
"How fortunate! Then I can please you by giving you good news of her.
She is the coming sensation. They say she is very rich, but quite one of
the people, you know: in fact, she makes no scruples of telling you her
father was a blacksmith, I think, and takes the dear old man with her
everywhere.


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