Girls -- Fiction; Impostors and imposture -- Fiction
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ELSIE MARLEY
by
JOSLYN GRAY
Author of "Kathleen's Probation"
Illustrated
[Frontispiece: Elsie . . . repeated the performance in a manner that
was only the more captivating.]
New York
Charles Scribner's Sons
Copyright, 1918, by
Charles Scribner's Sons
TO
MARY BULLIONS GRAY ANDERSON
ILLUSTRATIONS
Elsie . . . repeated the performance in a manner that was only the more
captivating . . . . . . _Frontispiece_
"Well, I mustn't stay here and keep you from 'redding' up your kitchen,
as you call it"
"You and I will do better with checks, Elsie, though Aunt Milly will
have none of them," he remarked
"Well, Elsie, we know the whole story now"
ELSIE MARLEY, HONEY
CHAPTER I
Mrs. Bennet, her travelling companion from San Francisco, having proved
to be talkative and uninteresting, Elsie Marley was more than content
to find herself alone after the change had been made and her train
pulled out of Chicago. It was characteristic of the girl that she did
not even look out of the window to see the last of Mrs. Bennet, who,
having waited on the platform until the train started and waved her
handkerchief in vain, betook herself indignantly to her carriage.
Quite unaware of any remissness on her part, Elsie settled herself
comfortably--Mrs. Bennet had disposed of her luggage--folded her hands
in her lap, and gazed idly out the window opposite.
A pale, colorless girl, the simplicity of her dress was in almost too
great contrast with its elegance--a contrived simplicity that left no
room for any trace of careless youth or girlishness. Slender and
rather delicate-looking, she had brown eyes, regular features, and
soft, light-brown hair waving loosely about her face and hanging in two
long, demure curls from a shell clasp at her neck. But her eyes were
of rather a shallow brown, her brows and lashes still lighter; her
features were almost too regular, and her skin, though soft and clear,
was quite colorless. Even so, she might have been pretty, perhaps
lovely, had she possessed any animation. But the girl's face and even
her eyes were as nearly expressionless as human features may be. She
was like a superior sort of doll with white cheeks in lieu of red.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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