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"Course she ain't gone! And, what's more, she ain't goin' to go. Whit's got so already that he wouldn't part with her no more'n he'd cut off his hand." "But he keeps SAYIN' she's got to go. Only yesterday he was tellin' how Betsy'd feel when the girl landed on her with his letter in her pocket."
It was plain he was studying and copying the other boys. He's wonderfully improved, but still shy. He'll always be shy. Connie, Whit's a fine fellow, too good for Nan Brown." "But, Milly," I interrupted, "the Rube's hard hit. Why is he too good for her?" "Nan is a natural-born flirt," Milly replied. "She can't help it. I'm afraid Whit has a slim chance.
She championed Henderson royally, and when, as a last card, I compared Whit's fine record with Henderson's, not only as a ball player, but as a man, particularly in his reverence for women, she flashed at me: "What do you know about it? Mr. Henderson asked me to marry him. Can a man do more to show his respect? Your friend never so much as hinted such honorable intentions.
Her companion was silent, afraid to speak lest her laughter break forth. The contrast between Auntie Jinit's staid, middle-aged appearance, and the gay, naughty glance of her eye was almost too much for a frivolous person like Elizabeth. "Ah want his advice, ye ken, because ah dinna ken jist whit's the best to dae.
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