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Updated: June 17, 2025
"But you must make sure, Eppie," said Silas, in a low voice "you must make sure as you won't ever be sorry, because you've made your choice to stay among poor folks, and with poor clothes and things, when you might ha' had everything o' the best." His sensitiveness on this point had increased as he listened to Eppie's words of faithful affection. "I can never be sorry, father," said Eppie.
"I wasna born on a Sabbath," retorted Jess. "Na, na, dinna tell me Eppie's fond o' her. Tell Eppie to come but to the kitchen when the tea's ower." Jess and Eppie had half an hour's conversation alone, and then our guests left. "It's a richt guid thing," said Hendry, "'at Eppie has ta'en sic a notion o' the wife." "Ou, ay," said Jess. Then Hendry hobbled out of the house. "What said Eppie to ye?"
So the countryside settled down for the winter, and as Christmas approached the Martin-Teeter conflict ceased to occupy the public mind. Even in the schoolroom it was soon forgotten, and this was a great relief to Elizabeth. For, of course, Eppie's trouble could not but directly affect her.
For she had promised Auntie Jinit that she would be off to the creek at the earliest hour to gather violets and lady's-slippers and swamp lilies to decorate the tables for the wedding breakfast. Charlie Stuart had promised to call for her at sunrise, but she was too excited to rest. For this was Eppie's wedding-day. Poor little Eppie had found her home at last her old home too.
Silas, on the other hand, was again stricken in conscience, and alarmed lest Godfrey's accusation should be true lest he should be raising his own will as an obstacle to Eppie's good. For many moments he was mute, struggling for the self-conquest necessary to the uttering of the difficult words. They came out tremulously. "I'll say no more. Let it be as you will. Speak to the child.
Eppie's heart was swelling at the sense that her father was in distress; and she was just going to lean down and speak to him, when one struggling dread at last gained the mastery over every other in Silas, and he said, faintly "Eppie, my child, speak. I won't stand in your way. Thank Mr. and Mrs. Cass." Eppie took her hand from her father's head, and came forward a step.
It marked two graves, those of Sandy's wife and his daughter, their only child, who had been Eppie's mother. Yes, it was hard to think of leaving it all, and he was fiercely determined to stay. His friends did their best to help him. Mr. Coulson took the liberty of writing to Mrs. Jarvis, the owner of the property, begging her to notice Sandy's claim. But there came no answer, and Mr.
Coulson had bothered her about either this or some affair like it not so long ago. "Horace, my dear," she said wearily, "don't you know by this time that the very mention of lawyers and all their business gives your poor auntie a headache?" She patted Eppie's cheek with her gloved fingers. "A sweet little face," she murmured. "Good-by, Miss Gordon.
He spoke just whenever he pleased, and he knew all about this matter. He had not been Elizabeth's and Rosie's chum for two weeks without hearing much of poor Eppie's wrongs. "That's Eppie, auntie, Eppie Turner, and that's her grandpa over there," he explained, nodding to where old Sandy stood with a group of men. "Mr. Huntley sold his farm, and he won't leave it." Mrs.
How pretty the Stone-pits 'ull look when we get back!" "It looks comical to me, child, now and smells bad. I can't think as it usened to smell so." Here and there a sallow, begrimed face looked out from a gloomy doorway at the strangers, and increased Eppie's uneasiness, so that it was a longed-for relief when they issued from the alleys into Shoe Lane, where there was a broader strip of sky.
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