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Hilda Wade, a Woman with Tenacity of Purpose

Creator: Allen, Grant, 1848-1899
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ask whether it would be possible for you to show me a specimen of her letters?" He unlocked a drawer and took out three or four. Then he read one through, carefully. "I don't think," he said, in a deliberative voice, "it would be a serious breach of confidence in me to let you look through this one. There's really nothing in it, you know--just the ordinary average every-day love-letter." I glanced through the little note. He was right. The conventional hearts and darts epistle. It sounded nice enough: "Longing to see you again; so lonely in this place; your dear sweet letter; looking forward to the time; your ever-devoted Sissie." "That seems straight," I answered. "However, I am not quite sure. Will you allow me to take it away, with the photograph? I know I am asking much. I want to show it to a lady in whose tact and discrimination I have the greatest confidence." "What, Daphne?" I smiled. "No, not Daphne," I answered. "Our friend, Miss Wade. She has extraordinary insight." "I could trust anything to Miss Wade. She is true as steel."
Willis the Pilot

WILLIS THE PILOT, A Sequel to the Swiss Family Robinson: OR, ADVENTURES OF AN EMIGRANT FAMILY WRECKED ON AN UNKNOWN COAST OF THE PACIFIC OCEAN. INTERSPERSED WITH TALES, INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL, AND ILLUSTRATIONS OF NATURAL HISTORY. BOSTON: LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. NEW YORK: LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM. 1875.
"You are right," I answered. "That shows that you, too, are a judge of character." He hesitated. "I feel a brute," he cried, "to go on writing every day to Sissie Montague--and yet calling every day to see Miss Tepping. But still--I do it." I grasped his hand. "My dear fellow," I said, "nearly ninety per cent. of men, after all--are human!" I took both letter and photograph back with me to Nathaniel's. When I had gone my rounds that night, I carried them into Hilda Wade's room and told her the story. Her face grew grave. "We must be just," she said at last. "Daphne is deeply in love with him; but even for Daphne's sake, we must not take anything for granted against the other lady." I produced the photograph. "What do you make of that?" I asked. "_I_ think it an honest face, myself, I may tell you." She scrutinised it long and closely with a magnifier. Then she put her head on one side and mused very deliberately. "Madeline Shaw gave me her photograph the other day, and said to me, as she gave it, 'I do so like these modern portraits; they show one WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.'" "You mean they are so much touched up!"