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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Pleased to see you again, Miss Deringham." She got no further, for the girl, who looked her full in the face, passed on, and the other woman flushed a trifle. "I'm afraid she must have heard you," said somebody. "Miss Deringham is, I believe, a connection of Alton's, and Hettie Forel hinted there was something more than that between them.
She ain't one o' your weak sort that flops down at the slightest report of good or bad luck, but we'd better be on the safe side. I'll tell yore Ma, I say, an' then I'll go up to the big house an see if I can do anything with Hettie." "Well, maybe you'd better," Dick Wrinkle agreed, slowly, "and I reckon you'd better give her a full account o' how it all happened.
He was greatly pleased at the way he had managed affairs at the trial, and had no fear of the people so long as he had the Stubbles with him. "They're all beasts and should be soundly whipped," Miss Mehetibel proclaimed. "Oh, if I were only a man!" "Cut your hair and change your clothes, Hettie," her brother sarcastically replied, "and you'll pass for a man any time."
Henley asked, with an appreciative nod in recognition of remarks he did not wish to prolong, as he leaned the axe against the front gate and ascended the steps. "Sech as it is," the old man answered, taking another tack. "When me an' Jane decided to come here to reside, Hettie was goin' to do wonders in the cookin' line.
Hettie shrugged her shoulders, as if to throw off some unpleasant idea. "Oh, I don't care. I'd do it over again. Lord, I couldn't help it. I love him so, and he is so sweet and good when he tries to be. He thinks I'm all right, too, in some ways. He says I'm just the girl to marry a dare-devil like he is.
You may 'a' noticed that Hettie is a sorter odd woman in some ways. Well, she's more peculiar on the husband line than any other. Alf's been off now goin' on ten months, an' she hain't once put pen to paper for him. So the few lines that has gone from this shebang has been writ by yours truly. Alf hasn't writ to me much, but I've kept 'im posted.
Dick, when all is said an' done, was her maiden choice, an' if thar ever was a woman roustabout, a feller that had a bow and a scrape for every pair o' bright eyes that come his way, that feller was Dick Wrinkle. He kept Hettie in hot water, and I don't know but what the cold bath you've giv' 'er has sort o' gone agin her constitution.
'I haven't seed seen no barrel." Hettie was trying to speak correctly, but the spirit of the narrative ran away with her meagre ideas of grammar. "'Oh, said I, 'you've got the wrong sow by the ear; a wagon went whizzin' by here a minute ago like it was shot out of a gun. "'Which way? the officer asked, rippin' out an oath that 'u'd a-took the prize at a cussin'-bee.
"Well, you know Hettie don't smile more 'n once a year," Wrinkle tittered, "but this was her anniversary. She was actually one broad grin from ear to ear." "'I wish somebody would stir Alf up a little bit, she said. 'He's entirely too poky. Carrie, that man is the slowest stick that ever lived. I wish some pretty, dashin' gal like Dixie Hart would flirt with him good and hard.
Floyd said, laying her hand on Harriet's head, "you stay here, and don't come down-stairs to-night for all you do. I'm not going to have people see you looking like that. It will set 'em to talking, after you've been to ride with Mr. Westerfelt. Stay here; I'll have Hettie fetch you something to eat." Harriet did not look up or reply, and Mrs. Floyd descended to the street.
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