By the Way of the Silverthorns (Musaicum Romance Classics). Grace Livingston Hill

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By the Way of the Silverthorns (Musaicum Romance Classics) - Grace Livingston Hill

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      Grace Livingston Hill

      By the Way of the Silverthorns (Musaicum Romance Classics)

      Published by

      Books

      - Advanced Digital Solutions & High-Quality eBook Formatting -

       [email protected]

      2020 OK Publishing

      EAN 4064066386054

      Table of Contents

       CHAPTER I

       CHAPTER II

       CHAPTER III

       CHAPTER IV

       CHAPTER V

       CHAPTER VI

       CHAPTER VII

       CHAPTER VIII

       CHAPTER IX

       CHAPTER X

       CHAPTER XI

       CHAPTER XII

       CHAPTER XIII

       CHAPTER XIV

       CHAPTER XV

       CHAPTER XVI

       CHAPTER XVII

       CHAPTER XVIII

       CHAPTER XIX

      CHAPTER I

       Table of Contents

      McRae Silverthorn arrived at the bride’s home in the middle of the afternoon on the day before the wedding and was met at the door by the maid, Thelma.

      “No, Miss Sydney isn’t here just now,” she said calmly. “Her mother took her off up to the farm early this morning to make her take a good rest. It couldn’t be had here no matter how hard she tried. The telephone and the doorbell and all just made it impossible. Anyway, Miss Rae, she said you were the only one who would come before six, and I was to explain to you. She was sure you’d understand.”

      “Why yes, of course,” said Rae with a pleasant smile. “I’m glad she had so much sense. I’ll just get a good nap myself and then I’ll have time to read awhile. I was sorry to have to come so early but Sydney knows there was no other train that would get me here in time for the dinner. Where are you going to put me, Thelma? Not my old room, surely, when you are having so many guests? You know it doesn’t matter where I go this time.”

      “Yes, your old room, Miss Rae. Miss Sydney said she wouldn’t be happy to have you anywhere else. And there’s plenty of room without it. They’ve got it all fixed. Miss Sydney said she wanted you just where you always had been when you visited her. She wanted to be able to run in on you at the last minute if she needed to ask you something. And Mrs. Hollis said, ‘Yes, of course!’”

      “Well, that’s nice. I’ll go right up, then. I’m rather tired. You see, I had a bit of shopping to do for mother before I came up here. Mother’s staying in town at Aunt Harriet’s, on the north side, you know, and she wanted some doodads sent up there for tomorrow.”

      “Well then, we’ll go up, and I’ll send Sanders up with your bags. I can come and unpack for you in a minute or two when I finish something I was doing in the dining room.”

      “No, Thelma, I don’t want you to. I’ve nothing in the world to do but unpack, and I really want to do it myself. I want to be sure my dress for tonight came through all right without crushing.”

      “Well, all right, if you say so, but if your dress needs any pressing you just ring and I’ll be up pretty soon and get it.”

      “Oh, it won’t need pressing, I’m sure. I packed it very carefully myself. Now you run along, Thelma. I know the way to my room without your help. And I know you’ve got plenty to do without running after me.”

      Thelma thanked her and departed, and Rae let herself into the big airy room next to the bride’s own room, where she had spent so many pleasant weekends and holidays for years back almost into her childhood.

      For a little while she busied herself unpacking and hanging her things in accustomed places. Not so many things this time as she usually brought, for the maid of honor’s outfit was already here, hanging in the closet of the sewing room like a great confection, shrouded in a protecting cover, ready to put on tomorrow night for the wedding.

      Sydney Hollis had been her most intimate friend since Rae had stayed one winter in the city with her aunt and started high school. Sydney had been her classmate. Then they went to college together and were roommates. If only Sydney were not going so far away! California seemed the other side of the world.

      Why couldn’t Sydney have fallen in love with some of the boys here at home? How grand it would have been! There was Curlin Grant, and his handsome brother Steve; or her own beloved brother. They were splendid boys, and more than once she had suspected all of them of being half in love with Sydney. Why couldn’t she have cared for one of them? Or Paul Redfern, or Reeves Leighton? But she hadn’t, so what was the use of thinking that all over again?

      She took out the pretty new dinner dress and admired it and hung it up on one of the lovely pink satin hangers with which the closet abounded. She patted it, and smoothed out the frills and

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