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Updated: May 29, 2025
Of course, I came to the old home Sunnycoombe but only to find I was still unforgiven, for the letter I sent to say I was in the village was not answered either, humbly as I begged my father to see me. All the same, Hepsie, I have remained here at your father's wish, for he lost money, and had to 'trek north, as they say, to a wild part of Rhodesia, where white women could not go." Mrs.
In this quiet little peaceful spot in Somersetshire there was no reason why a girl of Hepsie's age should not run about freely, and so, warmly wrapped up, the child trotted off but any one watching her small determined face would have seen that this was not an ordinary walk upon her part. She left the old lane and turned towards a different part of Sunnycoombe.
"My dearest of little girls," interrupted her mother, as they turned into Sunnycoombe Lane, where the snow lay crisply shining, and the trees were flecked with that dainty tracing of frozen white, "you look at me through glasses of love, and they have a knack of painting a person as fair as you wish that one to be. Supposing you give the rest of the world a little of their benefit, Hepsie mine!"
It was a most outspoken and unruly member, and yet belonged to the best-hearted child in the whole of Sunnycoombe, and the favourite, too, in spite of her temper, which was so quickly over, and her repentance always so sincere and sweet. She was looking up into Mrs. Erldon's face now with great honest blue eyes in which a faint shadow could be seen.
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