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"S-something to have dreamed," repeated Jethro, rising slowly from the counter. He went toward the doorway that led into the garden, and there he halted and stood listening. "C-Cynthy!" he said, "C-Cynthy!" Wetherell dropped his pen at the sound of the name on Jethro's lips. But it was little Cynthia he was calling little Cynthia in the garden.
"Like 'em enough to to live with 'em a winter?" "Live with them a winter!" "C-Cynthy, I want you should stay in Boston this winter and go to a young ladies' school." It was out. He had said it, though he never quite knew where he had found the courage. "Uncle Jethro!" she cried. She could only look at him in dismay, but the tears came into her eyes and sparkled. "You you'll be happy here, Cynthy.
"S-something to have dreamed," repeated Jethro, rising slowly from the counter. He went toward the doorway that led into the garden, and there he halted and stood listening. "C-Cynthy!" he said, "C-Cynthy!" Wetherell dropped his pen at the sound of the name on Jethro's lips. But it was little Cynthia he was calling little Cynthia in the garden.
Jethro got to his feet and turned his back on the storekeeper and picked up the parcel he had brought. "C-Cynthy well?" he inquired. "I I'll call her," said Wetherell, huskily. "She she was down by the brook when you came." But Jethro Bass did not wait. He took his parcel and strode down to Coniston Water, and there he found Cynthia seated on a rock with her toes in a pool.
Then a light seemed to dawn on her. "You frauds! So this is what you were whispering about! This is the way Cousin Ephraim buys his shirts!" "C-Cynthy," said Jethro, apologetically, "d-don't you think you ought to have a nice city dress for that supper party?" "So you're ashamed of my country clothes, are you?" she asked gayly. "W-want you to have the best, Cynthy," he replied.
A sudden longing was upon her for the peaceful life in the shelter of the great ridge, and she thought of the village maples all red and gold with the magic touch of the frosts. "Not that I haven't enjoyed my trip," she added; "but we are so happy there." He did not look at her, because he was afraid to. "C-Cynthy," he said, after a little pause, "th-thought we'd go to Boston."
"C-Cynthy," he said, putting his hand over hers on the table, "I want you to do something for me er for me," he repeated, emphasizing the last word. "I'll do anything in the world for you, Uncle Jethro," she answered; "you know that. What what is it?" "L-like Mr. Merrill, don't you?" "Yes, indeed." "L-like Mrs. Merrill like the gals don't you?" "Very much," said Cynthia, perplexedly.
"Like 'em enough to to live with 'em a winter?" "Live with them a winter!" "C-Cynthy, I want you should stay in Boston this winter and go to a young ladies' school." It was out. He had said it, though he never quite knew where he had found the courage. "Uncle Jethro!" she cried. She could only look at him in dismay, but the tears came into her eyes and sparkled. "You you'll be happy here, Cynthy.
A sudden longing was upon her for the peaceful life in the shelter of the great ridge, and she thought of the village maples all red and gold with the magic touch of the frosts. "Not that I haven't enjoyed my trip," she added; "but we are so happy there." He did not look at her, because he was afraid to. "C-Cynthy," he said, after a little pause, "th-thought we'd go to Boston."
Then a light seemed to dawn on her. "You frauds! So this is what you were whispering about! This is the way Cousin Ephraim buys his shirts!" "C-Cynthy," said Jethro, apologetically, "d-don't you think you ought to have a nice city dress for that supper party?" "So you're ashamed of my country clothes, are you?" she asked gayly. "W-want you to have the best, Cynthy," he replied.
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