She would not go back to her own home, though
we tried to persuade her, and the Scotch Preacher's wife was visiting in
the city, so she could not go there. But after I found myself driving
homeward with the girl--while McAlway went over the hill to tell her
family--the mood of action passed. It struck me suddenly, "What will
Harriet say?" Upon which my heart sank curiously, and refused to resume
its natural position.
In the past I had brought her tramps and peddlers and itinerant
preachers, all of whom she had taken in with patience--but this, I knew,
was different. For a few minutes I wished devoutly I were in Timbuctu or
some other far place. And then the absurdity of the situation struck me
all at once, and I couldn't help laughing aloud.
"It's a tremendous old world," I said to myself. "Why, anything may
happen anywhere!"
The girl stirred, but did not speak. I was afraid I had frightened her.
"Are you cold?" I asked.
"No, sir," she answered faintly.
I could think of nothing whatever to say, so I said it:
"Are you fond of hot corn-meal mush?"
"Yes, sir," very faintly.
"With cream on it--rich yellow cream--and plenty of sugar?"
"Yes, sir."
"Well, I'll bet a nickel that's what we're going to get!"
"Yes, sir.
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