She seemed slight in
figure, but above the average stature. She wore a loose-fitting dress of
light blue material, faced down the front with white, and over her
shoulders was thrown a small knitted shawl of a light pink color. Quincy
could not see her face, except in profile, for it was turned towards the
window, but the profile was a striking one. He turned to step forward
and enter his own room. As he did so the board upon which he stood
creaked. He stopped again suddenly, hoping that the noise would not
attract her attention, but her quick ear had caught the sound, and,
rising, she advanced towards the door, her hands extended before her.
"Is that you, Uncle Ike?" she asked in a clear, sweet voice. "I heard
you drive in."
She had started in a straight line towards the door, but for some cause,
perhaps the bright light coming from the wood fire in the open
fireplace, she swerved in her course and would have walked directly
towards the blazing wood had not Quincy rushed forward, caught her by
the hand and stopped her further progress, saying as he did so, "Miss
Pettengill, you will set your dress on fire.
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