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Updated: May 14, 2025
Aunt Eliza's opinion of "that red-headed body" had altered considerably during the course of the last year. "And mind an' look in on your way back," she insisted. Kitty nodded. "I will. I want to talk to Nan." "Ye'll no' be too hard on her?" besought Eliza. Kitty laughed. "Aunt Eliza dear, you're the biggest fraud I know!
She makes it better than Eliza does; Eliza's gruel is all little lumps, and when you suck them it is dry oatmeal inside. We kept as quiet as we could, and I made H. O. do some lessons, like the G. B. had advised us to. But it was very dull.
"Take her into thy bed-room, there, and let me fry the chicken while thee does it." Rachel came out into the kitchen, where Eliza was sewing, and opening the door of a small bed-room, said, gently, "Come in here with me, my daughter; I have news to tell thee." The blood flushed in Eliza's pale face; she rose, trembling with nervous anxiety, and looked towards her boy.
Through her we heard from Eliza's little girl, whom she left with her old master Bissel. A few days before she had come to her aunt, in Plaquemine, about nine miles, in the night, she heard that Yankee soldiers were in possession of that town. She had been told that a certain road led to Plaquemine, and took it in a moonlight night and found her aunt.
Peterkin could have sympathetic talks with them over their family photographs. Mrs. Peterkin's family-book was, alas! in Elizabeth Eliza's hand-bag. It contained the family photographs, from early childhood upward, and was a large volume, representing the children at every age. At Malta, as he supposed, Mr. Peterkin and the little boys landed, in order to send their telegram.
Now, Eliza's tryin' to make me act like a cat, an' me hatin' cats wuss'n pison. There's setch a thing as bein' too danged clean, don't you think so? Sort o' takes the self-respect away from a man. Makes you feel as if you'd ort to have petticoats on in place o' pants. How do you like that terbaccer?"
The cake had begun it, the cake had continued it, the cake had brought them together; and in Eliza's retrospect now I doubted If she could find the moment when her love for John had awakened; but if with women there ever is such a moment, then, as I have before said, it was when the girl behind the counter looked across at the handsome, blushing boy, and felt stirred to help him in his stumbling attempts to be businesslike about that cake.
Time passed on, and Eliza's love of mischief drove her into another kind of adventure. She was a girl of fine presence; fair, with bright black eyes and soft black hair, which curled naturally, and was usually worn combed back off the forehead. The general verdict was that she was pretty.
And, still talking of the making of coffee, they wandered into the garden and stood watching the little boys all arow, their heads tucked in for Eliza's son to jump over them, and they were laughing, enjoying their play, inspired, no doubt, by the dusk and the mystery of yon great moon rising out of the end of the grey valley.
"But you may take your sentry-box with you," said Eliza, pointing to his settee. "When a soldier remains close to his sentry-box, he does not desert his post. Well, good-by, Schroepfel; the sentinel will be relieved to-night." Eliza's words were fulfilled.
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