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Updated: June 8, 2025
Hanny's father declared, "She couldn't be married until she was twenty-five, just in time to save her from being an old maid." "But I won't be very old at twenty-five," she replied, smiling out of her big innocent eyes. "And I thought I wouldn't get married at all." They did miss Margaret. But the little girl had to study hard, and wait on her mother, and practise her music, and visit.
It was Hanny's first fair, but people didn't expect to take children out everywhere then, or indeed to go themselves. There was more home life, real family life. Her father was her escort, and her mother had said: "Now don't make the child sick by feeding her all kinds of trash, or she can't go out again this winter." So you see they had to be careful.
Ben thought he would like to spend at least a month over them. Supper-time came too soon. Mrs. French said she had enjoyed every moment of Hanny's visit, and hoped to have her a whole week in the summer vacation, and the young men must feel they would be welcome any time. "I've just been crowded full of delight," exclaimed Hanny, with her good-bye kiss.
They would keep her snug and safe, "to have and to hold," and he smiled to himself at the literal rendering. The chime of the clock roused Mrs. Underhill. It was Hanny's bedtime, and she had been so busy all day, so full of excitement, too, that her checks had bloomed with roses. She glanced across. The fair flaxen head was on the shoulder half hidden by the protecting arm.
And you get to know about so many people. But there was the Bible," and the child's voice dropped to a reverent tone. "Still, if Moses wrote the first books, that was a long while after the Flood." Hanny's vague idea was that the Bible had been created in the beginning, like Adam and Eve.
"Oh, yes, you would, even when you loved it and tried to learn with all your might. Tunes give you a joyful sort of feeling," and Hanny's eyes sparkled. "And you could dance to this," Tudie whispered softly, while her eyes danced unmistakably. Mrs. Jasper examined several of them and listened to the tunes. They came back to that for forty dollars. "We will have to talk to papa.
Yes, its final end was bullets for the rebels, as they were called. As my daughter says, come and see me again, and I will tell you all you want to hear. You are a pretty little girl," and he pressed Hanny's hand caressingly. Then they said good-by to him and went back to the parlor. "He always dresses up on holidays," said Mrs.
"There's only seven of us with Martha, and I am not crying," said the little girl spiritedly. Joe dropped in just as they were seated at the table, and whispered something to his father and Margaret. He seemed very merry, and Mr. Underhill gave a satisfied nod. He brought Margaret a beautiful cameo brooch, which was considered a fine thing then, and put a pretty garnet ring on Hanny's finger.
That puzzled the little girl a good deal, and when she had an opportunity she asked her father if he had faith in Joe. "Well," her father seemed to hesitate, "he might doctor Tabby, but I wouldn't let him experiment on Dobbin or Prince." Hanny's face was a study in gravity and disappointment. "And if I was sick?" she ventured with a very long sigh.
That was only two days off. Hanny's eyes entreated so wistfully. And the Deans lived only three doors away. "Why, yes," answered her mother with a touch of becoming hesitation. Hanny was telling this eventful interview over to Jim as they sat on the stoop that evening. Ben was reading a book, Jim was trying the toes of his shoes against the iron railing and secretly wishing he could go barefoot.
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