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Have you forgotten you mustn't think I'm sacrilegious, dear that the greatest mother we know anything about was just a poor carpenter's wife and how much her Great Son loved her? Her name was Mary, too I'm glad we gave Molly that name she's a good girl somehow it seems to me it always carries a halo of sacredness with it, even now!
That funny saddle would do see how big and high the horn is, good as the fork of a lady's saddle." "Yes, but the stirrup!" "I'd put my foot in between the flaps above the stirrup. Help me up, sir?" "I'd rather not." Molly pouted. "Stingy!" "But no woman ever rode that horse not many men but me. I don't know what he'd do." "Only one way to find out." Jed, approaching, joined the conversation.
Molly made him a little mocking face and herself took up the tale: "Well, we had our dinners there, sitting in some of the front pews, and the way Tom walked into that fried chicken and things would make you open your eyes. We were all hungry, course, after so early a breakfast, and the sail down, and all; but Tom was simply ravenous. He was so hungry he took away our own appetites, just watching.
"Ah, Molly," said Tom, the Coastguardsman, stroking his bushy beard, "the same idea has been running in my head, as well as in Dick's, ever since we got that letter from Jim, telling us of the beauty of his new home, and urging us all to emigrate. I've more than half a mind to join him out there, if you and the old folk will consent to go."
And when her mother assured her that Aunt Molly did nothing of the kind, and when Uncle Bob Hendricks looked up and saw Aunt Molly go pale under her powder, and when Aunt Molly said, "Why, Jane the child must have dreamed that," no one in this wide world must blame a little girl for opening her eyes as wide as she could, and lifting her little voice as strongly as she could, and saying: "Why, Aunt Molly, you know I saw you last night when I stayed with you.
Then the carriage came round, and she had the long solitary drive back to Miss Brownings'. It was dark out of doors when she got there; but Miss Phoebe was standing on the stairs, with a lighted candle in her hand, peering into the darkness to see Molly come in. 'Oh, Molly! I thought you'd never come back. Such a piece of news!
His ridiculous figure was less obtrusively absurd in the dim light. His laughing voice, lowered half-confidently, half-reverently, sounded less inconsequent than was its wont. Suddenly he turned to her and spoke with wholly unexpected vehemence. "I can't keep it in," he said. "You've got to know it. Molly, I love you most awfully. You do know it, I believe, without being told.
Yet again I doubt whether I may not have been uttering folly in the last two sentences, when I reflect how rude and rough these specimens of feminine character generally were. They had a readiness with their hands that reminded me of Molly Seagrim and other heroines in Fielding's novels.
"What is Desmond doing there?" asked the doctor. "Taking notes of the speeches. It won't be many notes he will take to-night," she answered. "For shame, Molly. This is the boy's chance of promotion. If I take you, we shall sit at the back of the hall." "Among the boys?" asked Molly. "Then you shall take me to enjoy the fun. I'll ignore Desmond to-night; but I will be even with him for this."
It was too large for dolls, and too small for people, and too ugly to please either. "That dip is perfectly horrid," said Julia. Molly was sure that she had never been so unhappy. She knew, now that it was too late, that she wanted the paper doll furniture more than anything in the whole world. The little girls were very sober all the way home.
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