Kiss me, dear, I am glad you are _my_
daughter!"
Sara kissed her tenderly, her eyes wet with tears of happiness; and
Molly and Morton entering just then, with questions as to where Polly
should be suspended, turned the talk into lighter channels.
The latter soon found herself chained to a perch of Sam's contriving,
out on the deep veranda, and for the rest of her stay had a string of
admirers ranged along the sidewalk at nearly all hours of the day,
bandying words with her ladyship. As for Sam, he furtively admired her
as much as the street-boys, and would be seen to slap his thighs and
double over with silent merriment, when she was a little more wicked
than usual; not that Sam was an encourager of vice; by no means; but as
he confided to Hetty,--
"It do beat all nater to see that pious old gurrl so fond of a haythen
creetur that's enough to disgrace a pirate hisself; an' the quareness of
it just gets me, it do."
As to the "pious old girl," (according to Sam's disrespectful
characterization of Miss Prue) she had quite given up in despair.
"Really, Sara," she remarked with deep melancholy, "it must be the city
atmosphere" (Dartmoor was a town of perhaps fifteen thousand
inhabitants), "for, you know, she never was so perverse in Killamet.
Pages:
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243