Mother has got one of
her headaches on this afternoon, so I can't stop any longer. There
isn't a soul in the house knows where anything is, when I am gone. If I
should ever take it into my head to go off, I don't know what would
become of father and mother, I was telling mother, the other day, that
I thought unregenerate folks were of some use in _this_ world, any
way."
"Does your mother know anything about it?" said Mary.
"Oh, as to mother, I believe she has been hoping and praying about it
these three months. She thinks that I am such a desperate case, it is
the only way I am to be brought in, as she calls it. That's what set me
against him at first; but the fact is, if girls will let a man argue
with them, he always contrives to get the best of it. I am kind of
provoked about it, too. But, mercy on us! he is so meek, there is no
use of getting provoked at him. Well, I guess I will go home and think
about it."
As she turned to go, she looked really pretty. Her long lashes were wet
with a twinkling moisture, like meadow-grass after a shower; and there
was a softened, childlike expression stealing over the careless gayety
of her face.
Mary put her arms round her with a gentle caressing movement, which the
other returned with a hearty embrace.
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