" And suiting his actions to his proposition the General
stretched himself out beside Rose Mary, buried his touseled head on
her pillow and presented a diminutive though sturdy little shoulder,
against which she instantly laid her soft cheek.
"You scrouge just like the puppy," was his appreciative comment of
her gentle nestling against his little body. "Now I'm going to sleep,
but if praying to God don't keep you from crying, then wake me up,"
and with this generous and really heroic offer the General drifted off
again into the depths, into which he soon drew Rose Mary with him,
comforted by his faith and lulled in his strong little arms.
CHAPTER X
IN THE HOLLOW OF HIS HAND
And the next morning a threatening, scowling, tossed-cloud dawn
brought the day over the head of Old Harpeth down upon little
Sweetbriar, which awakened with one accord to a sense of melancholy
oppression. A cool, dust-laden wind blew down Providence Road, twisted
the branches of the tall maples along the way, tore roughly at the
festoons of blooming vines over the gables of the Briars, startled the
nestled doves into a sad crooning, whipped mercilessly at the row of
tall hollyhocks along the garden fence, flaunted the long spikes of
jack-beans and carried their quaint fragrance to pour it over the bed
of sober-colored mignonette, mixing it with the pungent zinnia odor
and flinging it all over into the clover field across the briar
hedge. The jovial old sun did his very best to light up the situation,
but just as he would succeed in getting a ray down into the Valley a
great puffy cloud would cast a gray shadow of suppression over his
effort and retire him sternly for another half hour.
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