Harlowe's Golden Summer, by 
Jessie Graham Flower 
 
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Graham Flower This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no 
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Title: Grace Harlowe's Golden Summer 
Author: Jessie Graham Flower 
Release Date: January 28, 2007 [EBook #20471] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GRACE 
HARLOWE'S GOLDEN SUMMER *** 
 
Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Mary Meehan and the Online 
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net 
 
Grace Harlowe's Golden Summer 
By JESSIE GRAHAM FLOWER, A. M.
Author of The Grace Harlowe High School Girls Series, The Grace 
Harlowe College Girls Series, etc. 
 
PHILADELPHIA HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY Copyright, 1917 
 
[Illustration: Grace's Embroidery Dropped From Her Hands.] 
 
CONTENTS 
I. A Song of Golden Summer 
II. The House Behind the World 
III. For Auld Lang Syne 
IV. "To Thine Own Self Be True" 
V. Flying in the Face of Superstition 
VI. The Shadow 
VII. The Veiled Prophetess of Destiny 
VIII. Unveiling the Prophetess 
IX. The Meaning of Semper Fidelis 
X. The Shadow Deepens 
XI. Postponing Happiness 
XII. The Better 
Part
XIII. An Innocent Meddler 
XIV. The Beginning of the End 
XV. Merely a Looker-On 
XVI. J. Elfreda's Master Stroke 
XVII. Fate 
XVIII. A Gleam of Hope 
XIX. The Letter 
XX. The Last Chance 
XXI. The Call of the Elf's Horn 
XXII. Out of the Valley 
XXIII. The Strange Story 
XXIV. The Noon of Golden Summer 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
Grace's Embroidery Dropped From Her Hands. 
Devoted Love Shone in Her Clear Gray Eyes. 
"Here You Are, Weary Wanderer," She Said Gayly. 
"When You Have Found Tom, Give Him This Letter." 
 
Grace Harlowe's Golden Summer
CHAPTER I 
A SONG OF GOLDEN SUMMER 
"Now, David, you know that I know that you don't know what I know. 
Therefore, if I know that you don't know what I know you don't know, 
it's very plain to be seen that either you or I know very little. Now, 
which of us is a know-nothing? Don't be afraid to confess. Remember, 
we are your friends." Hippy Wingate beamed benevolently upon his 
victim, bland expectation written on his plump face. 
"No real friend of mine would ever take such cowardly advantage of 
the English language," was David Nesbit's scathing retort. "I'll leave it 
to Grace if I'm not right." 
"There, Grace. At last you have an opportunity to strike for the right. I 
believe in striking a valiant blow for the right----" 
"So do I," cut in Reddy Brooks decisively. "There is no time like the 
present. There couldn't be a better place. Away out here in this 
sequestered spot no one will hear your frenzied yells for help." Reddy 
rose determinedly from the steps of the old Omnibus House and made a 
nimble spring toward the loquacious prattler. 
"Never touched me," was wafted defiantly back, as Hippy Wingate 
skilfully eluded Reddy's avenging hand and disappeared around the 
protecting corner of the one-time hostelry. The old Omnibus House had 
ever been his refuge when put to flight by his long-suffering 
companions. 
"You might have known it," shrugged Nora Wingate with an 
indifference which marked long association with the verbose refugee. 
"In about three minutes you'll hear a frantic voice calling on me for 
protection. Don't say a word, any of you, but just listen." 
A sudden silence, broken only by a soft chuckle from the abused David, 
descended on the seven young people occupying the worn stone steps.
"No-ra!" From the rear of the old house a plaintive voice sent up this 
anguished plea for succor. 
"What did I tell you?" Nora's elaborate air of indifference vanished in a 
dimpling smile that was reflected on the faces of the group. No one said 
a word; neither did Nora rise to the noble duty of rescuer. 
"All alone, all alone! By the wayside she has left me, And no other's 
love I'll be; For to-night I am deserted; Nora has forgotten me!" 
intoned a mournful voice, flagrantly off the key. 
"For to-night you are a nuisance, you mean," was Reddy Brooks' 
shouted correction. "I'll rescue you." 
"Oh, my!" came Hippy's horrified accents, as Reddy Brooks leaped to 
his feet and dived toward the sheltering shadow that concealed the 
self-made outcast. 
"Isn't it a lovely evening, David? Have you noticed it?" A fat, beaming 
face was cautiously thrust forth round a corner opposite to that from 
which the call for help had so recently emanated. A plump body still 
more cautiously followed the face. It was evident that Hippy considered 
David the lesser of two evils. "May I sit by you, Anne? I have always    
    
		
	
	
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