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Young, E. H. (Emily Hilda), 1880-1949

"The Bridge Dividing"

'You have made a great
difference to us all.'
Henrietta's mouth opened with astonishment. 'I had no idea. And I do
nothing but enjoy myself.'
Rose laughed. 'That's what we want you to do. You must be as happy as
you can.'
This, from Aunt Rose, was the most wonderful thing that had happened
yet. Henrietta was overcome by astonishment and gratitude. 'I had no
idea. I never dreamt of your liking me. I thought you just put up with
me.'
'You haven't given me much chance,' Rose said in a low voice, 'of
doing anything else.'
It was true: Henrietta could not flourish when she thought herself
unappreciated, but now she expanded like a flower blossoming in a
night.
'Oh, if we could be friends! There's nobody to talk to except Charles
Batty, and I hated, I simply hated being at Sales Hall to-night.' She
tightened her lips and opened them to say, 'I shan't go there again. I
said so. She is a terrible woman.'
'She has a great deal to bear.'
'Yes, and she counts on your remembering that,' Henrietta said
acutely.
'What was the matter to-night?'
'Hints,' Henrietta whispered. 'Hints,' and she added nervously, 'about
you.'
Rose made a slight movement. 'Don't tell me.'
'And the cat. I ran away. She was crying, but I didn't care. I ran all
down the avenue on to the road. Mr. Sales had said he would take me
home, but I didn't wait. It was much better under the sky. Then I
heard footsteps, and it was Mr.


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