"
"That's so, Sara, for Mr. Glendenning said I spoke good English, or, at
least, that because you were so wise was why my English was correct,
something like that."
"Why, what does he know of me?" astonishedly.
"Oh, nothing much, only I said you'd been to school, and so on. Sara, I
believe I'll go up-stairs and lie down till supper's ready--I'm just
about tuckered out!"
"Humph! Do you call _that_ good English, Morton?"
"Well, it's just what I am, if it ain't fine talk," yawning loudly, and
before she could correct him again, the urchin made a grimace of
defiance, and fled up the stairs to his bed in the loft.
The announcement of that supper "fit for a king" brought him down good
as new in an hour's time, and I think few royal personages ever enjoyed
a meal more, for "hunger is the best sauce" now as ever.
The next morning the three from Miss Zeba's arrived, quite curious over
this orphaned family the madame had talked so much about.
As for young Mr. Glendenning, ever since Morton's description of his
sister, which instantly recalled to his memory a blushing, beautiful
face, and a hand outstretched for the gingham bonnet in his own, he had
been secretly wondering in what way he could make his surmises
certainties, without ungentlemanly intrusion; so you may be sure he had
no better business in hand when his aunt proposed the call, while her
husband would go miles any day to view a really fine specimen.
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