That Girl of Johnson's — page 157: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

146 THAT GIRL OF JOHNSON’S. heels, @rowding tupon you, each endeavoring to outdo thé rest in an elaborate and startling report. They’d walk in upon you at all times; your private room would be no guard against them; they'd enter while you were at meals and stare at you to see how you ate; they’d send up their cards with a flourish before you were well out of bed; they’d haunt you like evil spirits. You’d be tempted to wish that you had let your father die, or send one of the servants to find him. You’d be nearly killed with kind- ness; your steps and your parlors would be the witnesses of all sorts of scenes from curiosity seekers; they would entreat you for a lock of your hair, or a button from your dress, or a ribbon—anything by which to remember such a remarkable creature as you had made of yourself. And then you tell me you have done nothing as calmly as though you were speaking of donning a bonnet.” Dolores began to think she would not like Dora’s world. ‘Mr. Green told us all about you,” Dora continued ; “and I wished so much to get at you, but you would not come to me, and I could not come to you, and then the rain—oh, ‘the rain it raineth every day,’ and I began to think I would have to wait a week at least, and the things Mr. Green told me about you when he returned from here made me all the more restless and anxious to get at you, you poor dear.” “ He saved my father,” Dolores said, presently. She said it slowly, as though she were forced to say it. Dora nodded. “I know it,” she said; “the man who came over for the doctors told us about it, but you saved him more than any one else, Dolores, and you cannot deny it. They’d never have thought of going over there to look after the deputies gave up the search had it not been for you.” “ The deputies?” Dolores repeated, slowly. The softened - color and gentle expression disappeared from her face ; she drew her hands away from Dora’s clinging fingers; she pushed back the hair that had slipped down on her fore- Eomicbooks.com —