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Updated: June 2, 2025
"I helped mow away and the elder was kind enough to say that I had done well and could have the rest of the day to myself. I fancy the shrewd old fellow knew it was about to rain," and he laughed. "And how came you down this way?" Janice asked. "Followed your trail," laughed Nelson. I went in to Mrs. Beaseley's of course. "And then at Drugg's I learned you had gone down to see Jim Narnay's folks.
Not her uncle or her aunt. Neither Hopewell nor 'Rill was to be thought of. And the minister, or Elder Concannon, seemed too much apart from this business to be conferred with. And Nelson She did go to Mrs. Beaseley's one evening, hoping that she might find Nelson there, for she had not seen the young man or heard from him since he had gone out of town to work for Elder Concannon.
Beaseley's bright kitchen when he came home with his satchel of books and papers. "There! I do declare for't!" ejaculated the widow, who was a rather lugubrious woman living in what she believed to be the remembrance of "her sainted Charles." "There! I do declare for't! I git to talkin' and I forgit how the time flies.
Some people whom she met as she went up High Street looked at her curiously. Janice held her head at a prouder angle and marched up the hill toward Mrs. Beaseley's. She ignored these curious glances. But there was no escaping Mrs. Scattergood. That lover of gossip must have been sitting behind her blind, peering down High Street, and waiting for Janice's appearance.
Of herself, or of what the neighbors thought of her conduct, Janice Day thought but little. She went on to Mrs. Beaseley's cottage, solely anxious on Nelson's account. She found the widow in tears, for selfishly immured as Mrs. Beaseley was in her ten-year-old grief over the loss of her "sainted Charles," she was a dear, soft-hearted woman and had come to look upon Nelson Haley almost as her son.
On the right, hills, rugged and pine-clad, extended eight miles to the point at which Cane River reënters the Red. The distance from Monette's to Alexandria is thirty-five miles, of which fourteen is through wooded hills. Roads led west to Carroll Jones's and Beaseley's, twelve and thirty miles respectively; and on these roads Bee was directed to keep his trains.
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