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A Little Florida Lady

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User: user13
A Little Florida Lady

New York was in the throes of a blizzard.  The wind howled and

shrieked, heralding the approach of March, the Wind King's month of the

year.  Mrs. Davenport stood at a second story window of a room of the

Gilsey House, and looked down idly on the bleak thoroughfare.  She was

a young-looking woman for her thirty-five years, and had an extremely

sweet face, denoting kindliness of heart.

The hall door opened, and Elizabeth Davenport entered, carrying in her

arms a little ball of fluffy gray.


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