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Coolidge, Susan, 1835-1905

"Clover"

But I
mean that I would like to get you for a whole solid week to myself. There
is such a gang of people about always, and they all want you. Clover," he
went on, for, puzzled at his tone, she made no answer, "couldn't you like
me a little?"
"I like you a great deal. You come next to Phil and Dorry with me."
"Hang Phil and Dorry! Who wants to come next to them? I want you to like
me a great deal more than that. I want you to love me. Couldn't you,
Clover?"
"How strangely you talk! I do love you, of course. You're my cousin."
"I don't care to be loved 'of course.' I want to be loved for myself.
Clover, you know what I mean; you must know. I can afford to marry now;
won't you stay in Colorado and be my wife?"
"I don't think you know what you are saying, Clarence. I'm older than you
are. I thought you looked upon me as a sort of mother or older sister."
"Only fifteen months older," retorted Clarence. "I never heard of any
one's being a mother at that age. I'm a man now, I would have you
remember, though I am a little younger than you, and know my own mind as
well as if I were fifty. Dear Clovy," coaxingly, "couldn't you? You liked
the High Valley, didn't you? I'd do anything possible to make it nice and
pleasant for you."
"I do like the High Valley very much," said Clover, still with the feeling
that Clarence must be half in joke, or she half in dream. "But, my dear
boy, it isn't my home.


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