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Updated: September 28, 2025
She had made a list of the people who must be invited to the wedding, she had inspected the china-closet, she had calculated how many teaspoons would be needed, "Better borrow some forks from Nannie, too," she said, beginning, like every good housekeeper, to look careworn. "There's so much to be done!" said Cherry-pie, excitedly.
Isn't that strange? I've never been angry since. Well, then, I went out to walk. I remember Cherry-pie called down-stairs to know if I had a clean pocket-handkerchief. I remember that; and yet I can't seem to remember why I went out to walk. ... And he came up and spoke to me. Oh, I forgot to tell you: he'd been in love with me.
Ferguson barked at Miss White, barked so harshly that Elizabeth flew at him like a little enraged cat. "Stop scolding Cherry-pie! You hurt her feelings; you are a wicked man!" she screamed, and beating him with her right hand, she fastened her small, sharp teeth into her left arm just above the wrist then screamed again with self-inflicted pain.
Miss White, kissing her "lamb" good night, tried to whisper something in her ear: "He said to tell you " "No no no, I can't hear it; I can't bear it yet!" Elizabeth broke in; she put her hands over her eyes, shivering so that Cherry-pie forgot David and his message, and even her child's bad behavior. "Elizabeth! you've taken cold?" Elizabeth drew away, smiling faintly. "No; not at all. I'm tired.
Little the young man recked of what he ate at Judge Briscoe's good noon dinner: chicken wing and young roas'n'-ear; hot rolls as light as the fluff of a summer cloudlet; and honey and milk; and apple-butter flavored like spices of Arabia; and fragrant, flaky cherry-pie; and cool, rich, yellow cream.
When the older woman rose to go, Nannie clung to her: "Oh, won't you tell her? Please please!" Poor old Miss White could only shake her head: "I can't, my dear, I can't! It would not be fitting. Do it now, my dear; do it immejetly, and get it over." When Cherry-pie had wavered back into the night, Nannie gathered up her courage to "get it over."
"Miss White looks after her," he said, putting his glasses on again, carefully, with both hands; "she calls her her 'Lamb, though a more unlamblike person than Elizabeth I never met. She has a little school for her and the two Maitland youngsters in the top of my house. Miss White is otherwise known as Cherry-pie.
That blessed money, on which he and she could live for two years, she was going to give him that! For she and Nannie and Cherry-pie had decided that if the money were his, by a gift, then David, who was perfectly crazy and noble about independence, would feel that he and Elizabeth were living on his money, not hers.
"My dear Miss White," said Elizabeth's uncle, grimly, "there's no such luck." Miss White positively reeled. Then he explained, and Cherry-pie came nearer to her employer in those ten minutes than in the ten years in which she had looked after his niece. "I don't care about Elizabeth's temper; she'll get over that.
Ferguson made as if he would go back to the library, but stopped with his hand on the door-knob; once Miss White said brokenly, "The boy must have some breakfast"; but still they left him to himself. After a while, Cherry-pie sat down on the stairs and cried softly.
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