I was comfortably settled and hard at work on my article by noon.
At four I went to meet Uncle Eb. Hope was still sick in bed and we
came away in a frame of mind that could hardly have been more
miserable. I tried to induce him to stay a night with me in my new
quarters.
'I mus'n't,' he said cheerfully.' 'Fore long I'm comin' down ag'in
but I can't fool 'round no longer now. I'll jes'go n git my new
clothes and put fer the steamboat. Want ye t'go 'n see Hope
tomorrow. She's comm up with Mis Fuller next week. I'm goin' t'
find out what's the matter uv her then. Somethin's wrong
somewhere. Dunno what 'tis. She's all upsot.
Poor girl! it had been almost as heavy a trial to her as to me'
cutting me off as she had done. Remembrances of my tender
devotion to her, in all the years between then and childhood, must
have made her sore with pity. I had already determined what I
should do, and after Uncle Eb had gone that evening I wrote her a
long letter and asked her if I might not still have some hope of her
loving me.
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