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Glasgow, Ellen Anderson Gholson, 1873-1945

"The Miller Of Old Church"

"
To her amazement he burst into a laugh.
"By Jove, I suppose she misses it," he returned, "but what about that
fellow she picked up in the North who hung around her last summer?"
"Oh, there have been plenty of them hanging about her. Molly is the
kind, you know, that will have lovers wherever you put her." There was
a faint condescension in her voice, for she herself preferred adorers to
lovers.
"But she hasn't seemed to care about them," he said. "I believe she has
grown tired of flirting."
"I'm sure she doesn't flirt with them, and I think it's all because she
is pining for somebody she left at Old Church--the miller or the rector
or somebody we've never even heard of."
"What's that?" he started a little, and she saw at once that, although
she had used her most delicate weapon, he had flinched from the first
touch of the blade. "I'm positive she hadn't a real fancy for anybody
down there," he added, as he relapsed into his attitude of indifference.
"I know she says so, Jonathan, but there are other ways of telling."
"Oh, there's no truth in that--it's all nonsense," he said irritably.


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