"
Cynthia's son stood spellbound. He stared at the faded pictures and
the little silver ring. Nan was pinning up the wedding dress and
weeping openly and unashamed. It was the sight of her quiet tears that
brought him back to earth.
"Oh--Nan--don't. Don't grieve about this evil thing. We're going to
fight it and fight it hard. We shall save Jim Tumley yet and purify
Green Valley."
When Nan got back home she went up to her room and looked down to where
Cynthia Churchill's old home glowed among its autumn-tattered trees.
"What a woman! What a mother! And he is her son!"
She stood a long time at her window, then turned away with a little
sigh.
"I am not made of heroic stuff. But I shall see to it that my son need
never be ashamed of his mother. If one woman could fight love so can
another."
When Grandma was taking off her rubbers in her little storm-shed she
smiled and fretted:
"Dear me, Cynthy, that boy of yours is as innocent right now as you
were in the olden days. He--why, he just doesn't know anything!"
CHAPTER XX
CHRISTMAS BELLS
After the last bit of glory has faded from the autumn woods and the
first snowfall comes to cover the tired fields, Green Valley, all
snugly housed and winter proof, settles down to solid comfort and
careful preparation for the two great winter festivals--Thanksgiving
and Christmas.
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