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The best is up garret; you run and get some, while I mash the bread," commanded Tilly, diving into the mess. Away trotted Prue, but in her haste she got catnip and wormwood, for the garret was darkish, and Prue's little nose was so full of the smell of the onions she had been peeling, that everything smelt of them.
When Prue and I are most cheerful, and the world looks fair we talk of our cousin the curate. When the world seems a little cloudy, and we remember that though we have lived and loved together, we may not die together we talk of our cousin the curate. When we plan little plans for the boys and dream dreams for the girls we talk of our cousin the curate.
"Well, you mustn't tell nobody, Prue, she got drunk agin, and they had her down cellar, and thar they left her all day, and I hearn 'em saying that the flies had got to her, and she's dead!" Dinah held up her hands, and, turning, saw close by her side the spirit-like form of Evangeline, her large, mystic eyes dilated with horror, and every drop of blood driven from her lips and cheeks.
Prue was scandalized to the last degree, for with her marriage was more a law than a gospel; a law which ordained that a pair once yoked should abide by their bargain, be it good or ill, and preserve the proprieties in public no matter how hot a hell their home might be for them and for their children. "What a dreadful state society would be in if your ideas were adopted!
He devoted himself to the consideration of his breakfast, which was excellent, and found that he had an appetite to enjoy it thoroughly. Prue watched him for a minute or two in silence. "Ye likes yer food?" she demanded, presently. "Very much!" "Thought yer did! I'll tell Mis' Tranter." With that she retired, and shutting the door behind her left Helmsley to himself.
I've been a danged fule!" he said, more as if speaking his thoughts aloud than addressing me, "but a man can't help lovin' a lass like Prue, and when 'e loves 'e can't 'elp hopin'. I've hoped these three years an' more, and last night she called me coward."
Grandmother fell ill from anxiety, and even Aunt Prue looked white and miserable. Aunt Greg and Aunt Hitty spent their time crying in corners, and "Why did we let him go?" was the language of all their hearts.
If he prefers the latter alternative, well and good. But he gets no help from me. You're a foolish little girl, Prue, to back him up in this nonsense of his." It makes me angry to be called a little girl when I put up my hair a year ago, and Uncle Abimelech knows it. I gave up arguing with him. I knew it was no use anyway. I thought it all over in the garret.
The girls ran up into the sandhills to change, but before Prue disappeared she returned to the boys with a basket made of rushes in her hand, which she had begged from Bridget. "Here are some buns and grapes," she said a little shyly, "I thought you might be feeling hungry, and it is a long time yet till tea- time."
Vernons, the garden, the birds, the flowers, the blue sky, the sunlight, Meeting Street, the story of Juliet, Miss Pinckney, even old Prue. Memories, sounds, scents, and colours all formed part of the living thing that Frances Rhett had killed. "Leaving Charleston!" said Silas, speaking in a dazed sort of way. "Yes. I cannot stay here any longer."
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