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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Darrel of the Blessed Isles"

You remember Beryl?--eyes like her mother's.
"I was there at the depot that day. Well, it looked as if they
were still in their honeymoon.
"'Dear little wife!' said Trove, as he kissed Polly. Then he took
the child in his arms, and I went to dinner with them. They lived
half a mile or so out of Hillsborough.
"'Hello!' said Trove, as we entered. 'Here's a merry Christmas!'
"Polly had trimmed the house. There against the wall was a
tapering fir-tree, hung with tinsel and popcorn. All around the
room were green branches of holly and hemlock.
"'I'm glad you found Phyllis,' said she.
"'Poor Phyllis!' he answered. 'They broke her down with hard work,
and then sold her. She'll be here to-morrow.'
"'You saw Darrel on the way?'
"'Yes, and he is the same miracle of happiness. I think he will
soon be free. Leblanc is there in prison--convicted of a crime in
Whitehall. As I expected, there is a red mark on the back of his
left hand. Day after to-morrow we go again to Dannemora.
Sweetheart! I hurried home to see you.' And then--well, I do like
to see it--the fondness of young people.
"Night came, dark and stormy, with snow in the west wind. They
were sitting there by the Christmas tree, all bright with
candles--Polly, Trove, and the little child.


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