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Smith, Francis Hopkinson, 1838-1915

"Peter: a novel of which he is not the hero"

"
"Any good houses,--any to rent?"
"Yes,--I saw two."
"And you want my advice, do you, Jack?" he burst out, rising erect
in his seat.
"Yes."
"Well, I'd stick to MacFarlane and take Ruth with me."
Jack broke out into a forced laugh. Peter had arrived by a short
cut! Now he knew, he was a mind reader.
"She won't go," he answered in a voice that showed he was open to
conviction. Peter, perhaps, had something up his sleeve.
"Have you asked her?" The old fellow's eyes were upon him now.
"No,--not in so many words."
"Well, try it. She has always gone with her father; she loves the
outdoor life and it loves her. I never saw her look as pretty as
she is now, and she has her horse too. Try asking her yourself,
beg her to come along and keep house and make a home for the three
of you."
Jack leaned back in his seat, his face a tangle of hopes and
fears. What was Uncle Peter driving at, anyhow?
"I have tried other things, and she would not listen," he said in
a more positive tone. Again the two interviews he had had with
Ruth came into his mind; the last one as if it had been yesterday.


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