A Girl of VirginiaThruston, Lucy M. (Lucy Meacham)
General
A Girl of Virginia
Thruston, Lucy M. (Lucy Meacham)
Virginia -- Fiction
A Girl of Virginia
[Illustration: "He had stepped from his own room far up the corridor."]
A Girl of Virginia
BY
LUCY M. THRUSTON
Author of "Mistress Brent"
_With a Frontispiece by Ch. Grunwald_
Boston
Little, Brown, and Company
_Copyright, 1902_,
BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY.
_All rights reserved_
Printers
S. J. PARKHILL & CO., BOSTON, U. S. A.
_To_
GOVERNOR MONTAGUE, OF VIRGINIA
_A former Student of the University_
A Girl of Virginia
I
"Good morning!" The voice was cheery, insistent. It brought the young
girl on the porch above to the white wooden rail about its edge.
"Good morning!" she called back lightly.
"Beautiful day!" persisted the young man saying inanely the first words
he could think of for the sole purpose of keeping her there in sight.
"Lovely!" cried the girl enthusiastically, leaning a little further over
the rail. A vine, which had climbed the round pillar and twined its
tendrils about the porch's edge, set waving by the slight motion, sent a
shower of scarlet leaves about the young man below; one fluttered upon
his breast, he caught it and held it over his heart as if it were a
message from her to him; and then he fastened it in his button-hole.
The young woman laughed carelessly as he did so; she was too used to
students to exaggerate the meaning of their words or deeds, and there
was no answering flash in her gray eyes as she looked down on him.
"Don't you think it too fine to stay indoors?"
"I'm not in," answered the girl turning her head to look up at the blue
arch of the sky overhead.
"Oh, well"--the young fellow bit his lip, and flushed hotly,--"you know
it's--Come, take a walk across the quadrangle," he added boldly.
"There's no one around."
Frances leaned further for a survey of campus and corridor. "All right!"
she cried, and he could hear her footsteps as she ran down the polished
stair in the big old house. When she opened the great hall door she was
charmingly demure. "Glad to see you Mr. Lawson!" she exclaimed
mischievously to the young man, who stood hat in hand by the wide step.
"Delighted, I'm sure!" he flashed back, holding the hand she extended as
long as he dared,--so long that the young woman had drawn herself up
quite straight and was looking gravely along the corridor when he
released it.
"You haven't mailed your letter!" she said looking at the missive he
still held.
"Oh! and I came--"
"There's the box, don't forget it!"
"Which way are you going?"
"Up to the Rotunda, of course."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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