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The name of Rose had been given to the child in memory of the other long-mourned Rose, who had been the first to leave them, and who slept yonder in the little cemetery. There in his turn had Blaise been laid, and thither Charlotte had followed them. Then Berthe, Blaise's daughter, who had married Philippe Havard, had given birth to Angeline.
This brought the little one into his view. She was smiling, and he went away in a state of relief marred by but one regret: He was as ignorant as ever where to look for the mother of Angeline. Nevertheless Mr. Gryce was proud of the gain he had made in his talk with Mrs. Duclos, and he smiled as he thought of his next interview with Sweetwater.
"'Dey would fo'sake yo', honey, and leave po' old Sarah Angeline, 'less I leaves yo' heah to die all 'lone by yo'self in the dark. "I looked up into the black face bending over my cot. "'Good Lawd, chile, doan' yo' look that way at po' old Sarah Angeline! Bress yo' heart, chile, I'se nevah gwine to fo'sake dis yere white baby in her powerful trials and deep 'flictions 'deed I won' now, honey!
"Don't interrupt me, my dear," resumed Mrs. Chapman, and she again turned to Angeline. "Do you know, Mrs. Toodlebug, that I have always felt that we ought to be the best of friends?" "You are very kind," said Angeline, "very kind. We are very plain people." "That's why I like you all the better," Mrs. Chapman resumed, with an air of condescension.
"I think she's at the boarding house," he said demurely. "I'm pretty certain you'll find her there." All the regulars at the perfect boarding house had, of course, attended the reception at the Cy Whittaker place. None of them, with the exception of the schoolmistress, had as yet returned. Dinner had been forgotten in the excitement of the great day, and Keturah and Angeline and Mrs.
"I think she's altogether too pert about what don't concern her," commented Angeline Phinney. "Sarah Emma Simpson dropped in t'other day to dinner, and we church folks got to talkin' about the minister's preachin' such 'advanced' sermons. And Sarah Emma told how she'd heard he said he'd known some real moral Universalists in his time, or some such unreligious foolishness.
At breakfast, which is served in their parlor, he eats with his knife, and pours his tea into his saucer in spite of Augusta's disgust and his wife's open protestations. "'Now, Angeline, you shet up with your folderol, he will say, with the most imperturbable good humor.
The poor fellow! we all knew him well. Tite says here that he has found a good friend in the captain, an old acquaintance of his mother. And who do you think it is?" Not one in the company could answer, although Angeline blushed, and looked confused. "Price Bottom, son of that clever old man, the grave-digger," concluded the Dominie. "How strange," said the inn-keeper.
I really think he wouldn't be so rude if she would treat him as a lady should." "There's another play we used to have," said Prudy, "where you sit round on the floor, right among the dishes, and eat your supper." "Well, I declare for it," said Angeline, "those people off there do need missionaries more than ever I thought they did."
"Grandma why, grandma'll read the Bible. And O, such a time! "That Angeline girl will remember how she rocked that darling Dotty, and told me stories." Dotty was seized with a sudden shivering. The stories came back to her mind vividly.
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