She had pleasant and quite regular features, for a girl of fifteen,
with dark hair and eyes--the "Merrick eyes," her mother proudly
declared--and a complexion denoting perfect health and colored with
the rosy tints of youth. Her figure was a bit slim and unformed,
and her shoulders stooped a little more than was desirable; but in
Cloverton Elizabeth had the reputation of being "a pretty girl," and a
sullen and unresponsive one as well.
Presently she rose from her seat, glanced at the clock, and then went
into the hall to get her hat and school-books. The prospect of being
an heiress some day had no present bearing on the fact that it was
time to start for school.
Her father came to the door with the check in his hand.
"Just sign your name on the back of this, Beth," said he, "and I'll
get it cashed for you."
The girl shook her head.
"No, father," she answered. "If I decide to go to Aunt Jane's I must
buy some clothes; and if you get the money I'll never see a cent of
it."
"When will you decide?" he asked.
"There's no hurry. I'll take time to think it over," she replied. "I
hate Aunt Jane, of course; so if I go to her I must be a hypocrite,
and pretend to like her, or she never will leave me her property.
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