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It was a swift aside and his voice had taken up the tale "That woman you not take that woman.... You hear? Yes she good woman!" "Tell them to look in the cellar!" said Betty. She had pressed closer, on tiptoe. "There is a hole there under a barrel and a barrel in the garden. You tell them " His eye dropped to her. "In cellar? You say that?" "Yes yes " Her hands were clasped. "They took me there!
"Don't care, Bob. I really don't mind not going to the sale." Mrs. Peabody was in the pantry, straining the milk. "We're going," whispered Bob. "You meet me right after dinner at the end of the lane. I'm sick of being knocked around, and I think Jim Turner will be at the sale. I want to see him. Anyway, we're going." "But but Mr. Peabody will be furious!" ventured Betty.
And his curiosity was so much raised by the story, his interest and sympathy so excited for the hero, that he read on, standing for a quarter of an hour, fixed in the same position, while Betty held forth unheard, about cap, supper, and pattern. At last he carried off the book to his own room, that he might finish it in peace; nor did he ever stop till he came to the end of the volume.
Betty clapped her hand to her mouth, anxious not to excite her patient. "Why, of course, this is the farm. And she must be one of Bob's aunts!" As if in answer to her question, the sick woman half rose in bed. "Charity!" she stammered, her hands pressed to her aching head. "Charity! She was sick first."
She had no argument at hand, so she turned in an arrogant manner and said austerely: "I had better go and look after my daughter, to see that she doesn't work herself quite to death. But I don't know what we should do without bread." "Now you have done it!" cried Betty. "I only hope she won't vent her anger on the poor child." "It is a curious thing," said Mrs.
"I don't know but doing things is full as bad as sayin' 'em, though. I s'pose you ain't kind of flaunted it a little speck that you had some secret amon'st you, to spite Mary?" "She was stuffy about it and she had no right to be," Betty said this at first hastily, and then added: "I did wish yesterday that she would ask to belong and find that for once she couldn't."
These last were as totally unlike as their writers, and Betty thought that none of them hit the point so well as Madeline's suggestions, and none was so cogent as the plea that Eleanor and Jim between them had unconsciously made; but they might all help. From Mr.
This she would, of course, do at once if she knew the full extent of Betty's sin. Fanny felt that she must proceed very warily. Betty had hidden the packet, and boldly declared that she would not give it up to any one that she would rather leave the Specialities than tell her story to Mrs. Haddo and put the little sealed packet into her keeping.
"The only time I have noticed you get very red," she added, "is when some one happens to mention a certain young gentleman by the name of Lieutenant Allen Washburn." Betty could feel that her face was burning, but she did not care. She was awfully proud of Allen and desperately fond of him and for the moment she did not care if the whole world knew about it.
'Why, Lord, Lord, you are sickening for the small-pox! he cried. 'Oh I forgot! faltered Betty.
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