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ommonplace. Philip's meeting with Evelyn, so long thought of and dramatized in his mind, was not in the least as he had imagined it. When one morning he went to the Peacock Inn at the summons of Mrs. Mavick, in order to lay out a plan of campaign, he found Evelyn and her governess seated on the veranda, with their books. It was Evelyn who rose first and came forward, without, so far as Philip could see, the least embarrassment of recognition. "Mr. Burnett? Mamma will be here in a moment. This is our friend, Miss McDonald." The girl's morning costume was very simple, and in her short walking-skirt she seemed younger even than in the city. She spoke and moved--Philip noticed that--without the least self-consciousness, and she had a way of looking her interlocutor frankly in the eyes, or, as Philip expressed it, "flashing" upon him. Philip bowed to the governess, and, still standing and waving his hand towards the river, hoped they liked Rivervale, and then added: "I see you can read in the country." "We pretend to," said Evelyn, who had resumed her seat and indicated a chair for Philip, "but the singing of that river, and the bobolinks in the meadow, and the light on the hills are almost too much for us. Don't you think, McDonald, it is like Scotland?" "It would be," the governess replied, "if it rained when it didn't mist, and there were moors and heather, and--" "Oh, I didn't mean all that, but a feeling like that, sweet and retired and sort of lonesome?" "Perhaps Miss McDonald means," said Philip, "that there isn't much to feel here except what you see." Miss McDonald looked sharply around at Philip and remarked: "Yes, that's just it. It is very lovely, like almost any outdoors, if you will give yourself up to it. You remember, Evelyn, how fascinating the Arizona desert was? But there was a romantic addition to the colored desolation because the Spaniards and the Jesuits had been there. Now this place lacks traditions, legends, romance. You have to bring your romance with you." "And that is the reason you read here?" "One reason. Especially romances. This charming scenery and the summer sounds of running water and birds make a nice accompaniment to the romance." "But mamma says," Evelyn interrupted, "there is plenty of legend here, and tradition and flavor, Indians and early settlers, and even Aunt Hepsy." "Well, I confess they don't appeal to me. And as for Indians, Parkman's description
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