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Updated: June 29, 2025
He winked at his friend as the old darkey faded into the darkness of the store, and continued: "Did I ever tell you about Wilson Peale's portrait of my grandmother, Dorothy Carvel, that I saw this summer at my brother Daniel's, in Pennsylvania? Jinny's going to look something like her, sir. Um! She was a fine woman. Black hair, though. Jinny's is brown, like her Ma's."
That night, after Miss Jinny's trunk had finally been disposed of, and all the gossip of Rockham village and outskirts had been thoroughly aired, and Miss Jinny, tired from her strenuous day, had gone thankfully to bed, Patricia and Elinor were talking over the day's happenings as they brushed their hair in the seclusion of their own room.
She had felt rather timid about it, before starting; but was obliged to confess she got on better than she expected. A kind old man sitting opposite, for instance a splitter he said he was actually undid Jinny's bonnet-strings, and fetched water for her at the first stoppage. Polly had not been in Melbourne since the year after her marriage, and was looking forward intensely to the visit.
A friend doubted the range of the black's vision, which was truly telescopic, as we frequently verified with a pair of powerful field glasses, but not to be thought inferior in this respect, he solemnly declared that he saw Jinny's cousin on the beach strike a light for his pipe.
And now we all observed a change of direction in the inquiry. Witnesses were summoned to corroborate Mr. Jeffrey's statements, statements which it seemed to be the coroner's present wish to establish. First came the grocer who had sold Mr. Jeffrey the candles. He acknowledged, much to Jinny's discomfort, that an hour after Mr.
His demeanour towards his aunt on the momentous morning alluded to had led to a violent quarrel with her and her husband, which had had unexpected results, for Jinny had taken his part Jinny who was the idol of her parents and the pivot on which the whole establishment turned. John's whilom indifference had led first to pique on Jinny's part and then to interest.
The baby, too, a white, pure little thing, was lying in the cradle, cooing softly to itself. The mother instinct is nearest the surface in a loving woman; the girl went up quickly to it, and touched its cheek, with a smile: she could not help it. "It's so pretty!" she said. Jinny's eyes glowed. "I think so," she said, simply. "It's my baby. Did you want me?" Lot remembered then.
There was certainly no memory of her in his mind now as he climbed the hill with Jinny on his arm. They had only been married a few days, and his attitude towards her was still that of a lover. They sat down on the summit of the hill, and John put his arm round Jinny's waist. After the manner of their kind they did not talk much, but were vaguely content with one another and their surroundings.
Patricia felt that same indefinite sense of loss and disillusionment which had haunted her earlier in the evening, and she shrank back into her corner without a word, fearing that Miss Jinny's clear vision might after all substantiate her shadowy misgivings. It was Elinor who rushed to the defense. "We've always found her sweet-tempered and kind, haven't we, Patricia?
Elinor sighed in deep content. "Maybe Bruce will let Margaret work with me sometimes," she murmured joyfully. "I know he's going to like Griffin tremendously; she's just the sort to fit in with us all. Miss Jinny's crazy over her. I don't believe we'll see poor Doris Leighton again. Griffin told me she was leaving." Patricia cuddled down in the pillows again, with a chuckle.
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