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Updated: May 4, 2025
She left them with their mother, after a few minutes, and went out to breathe the outside air, where at least there was quiet and freedom. To think as she went out into the red morning sunshine that her old life was over, made Nettie's head swim with bewildering giddiness.
Picnics, musicals, evening parties approved by the school faculty even little feasts after curfew were hatched within the membership. Nettie Parsons, the daughter of the "sugar king," was destined never to be very popular in the school. Those girls who hoped to benefit by Nettie's wealth soon found that money meant as little to Nettie as to any girl at Briarwood.
That heavy sense of injustice somewhat deadened any pricks of guilt when, later, she stealthily removed the pepper-and-salts from the upstairs store-closet. But Aunt Nettie's eagle eyes chanced to see her. She went to Mrs. Merriam. "What do you suppose Missy wants of those old pepper-and-salt pants?" "I don't know, Nettie. Why?" "She's just sneaked 'em off to her room.
Nettie's voice grew weak, the shadows deepened under her eyes, for a little they closed; and but for the faint stir of the coverlet over her heart she was so pallid, so still, that she might have been dead. Moved by an uncontrollable fear he bent toward her and touched her hand. Her gaze slowly widened, and, turning over her palm, she weakly grasped his fingers.
At first she had tried to put something of her own revived spirit in the older woman but it was like pouring water into a cracked glass: her mother was too utterly broken to hold any resolution whatever. Nettie's feeling for Edward Dunsack became an instinctive deep distrust.
Eating was not in Nettie's line just now; the little kind Frenchwoman had been to see her in the course of the day and brought some delicious rolls and a jug of riz-au-gras, which was what seemed to suit Nettie's appetite best of all. Several days went on; she did not feel sick, and she was a little stronger; but appetite and colour were wanting.
"There was a tribe of Gypsies camping near the Parsons estate. They all went over to have their fortunes told just for a lark, you know. It was after dinner one evening, and there was company. Nettie's Aunt Rachel had dressed her best, and she wore the necklace to the Gypsy camp. "That very night the Parsons' house was robbed.
His wife is as extravagant as he is, and I doubt if there is much left out of the estate." Edna wondered if Clara would have to live in a tiny, little house like Nettie's and if she would be very unhappy.
But her words had a mingled accent of tenderness and hope which was irresistible. "Yes, Nettie if you will show me how," her father answered, in a lowered voice. And Nettie's eye gave one bright flash of joy. It was as if all her strength had gone out at that flash, and she was obliged to lean back on her father's shoulder and wait; joy seemed to have taken away her breath.
"Other children?" she echoed, but Nettie's sharpened face brought her to herself. She wiped her eyes on Hope's dress. "I lost a child," she said. "Oh," Nettie murmured, "I'm sorry I asked you. It was older than Dorcas?" Charlotte stood at bay, with her child strained close to her. She nodded. "Oh!" Nettie murmured again, in a shaken voice. She looked at Charlotte in despairing envy.
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