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The Seventh Noon

Creator: Bartlett, Frederick Orin
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lights of a drugstore stained the sidewalk. The girl seized the man's arm and turned to Donaldson. "He is my brother," she explained. "We must leave the machine and get him home at once. Can we order a cab from somewhere?" "At the drugstore we can telephone for one and also reach your garage." "Would you mind attending to it?" she asked anxiously. "We will wait here,--in the car." He hesitated. "I don't like to leave you here alone," he said. "I shall be quite safe--really." "But in the drugstore it is warmer, and--" "No, no," she broke in hurriedly. "I--I would much rather not." Without further parley he took the address of the garage where the machine had been hired, and walked on to the drugstore. He was back again in five minutes, relieved to find her safe and the brother still quiet. While waiting for the cab it occurred to him that he should
Lady Rosamond\'s Secret A Romance of Fredericton

LADY ROSAMOND'S SECRET: A Romance of Fredericton. by RE. AGATHA ARMOUR. St. John, N. B. Telegraph Printing and Publishing Office. 1878.
also have telephoned for a physician to meet them when they reached the house. But Miss Arsdale objected at once to this. "I think we had better not. But if you would--it's asking a great deal of you--if you yourself would ride back with us." "I had intended to do that," he assured her. The cab arrived within a few minutes, and she gave an address off Riverside Drive. It took half an hour to make the run. On the journey the three remained silent save for a few commonplaces, for conversation seemed to have a disquieting effect upon young Arsdale. The lighted houses flashed past the carriage windows in the soft spring dark, looking like specks of gold upon black velvet. A certain motherliness pervaded the night; there was a suggestion of birth everywhere. Donaldson responded to it with a growing feeling of anticipation. Sitting here confronting this girl he was swept back to a primal joy of things, to a sense of new worlds. He felt for a moment as though back again with her in that gypsy kingdom into which the music had borne them. The cab swung from the boulevard and, after following for a few moments a somewhat tortuous course among side streets, stopped before an iron gate which stretched across the drive leading to the house. Either side of the gate a high hedge extended. The three stepped out and Donaldson paused a moment before dismissing the cabby. The girl saw