The Angel handed Elnora the candle, and
stooping, straightened the child's body. She ran her fingers through the
bright curls, and lightly touched the aristocratic little nose.
"The supply of freckles holds out in my family, you see!" she said.
"Both of the girls will have them, and the second boy a few."
She stood an instant longer, then bending, ran her hand caressingly down
a rosy bare leg, while she kissed the babyish red mouth. There had been
some reason for touching all of them, the kiss fell on the lips which
were like Freckles's.
To Elnora she said a tender good-night, whispering brave words of
encouragement and making plans to fill the days to come. Then she went
away. An hour later there was a light tap on the girl's door.
"Come!" she called as she lay staring into the dark.
The Angel felt her way to the bedside, sat down and took Elnora's hands.
"I just had to come back to you," she said. "I have been telling
Freckles, and he is almost hurting himself with laughing. I didn't think
it was funny, but he does. He thinks it's the funniest thing that ever
happened. He says that to run away from Mr. Ammon, when you had made him
no promise at all, when he wasn't sure of you, won't send him home to
her; it will set him hunting you! He says if you had combined the
wisdom of Solomon, Socrates, and all the remainder of the wise men, you
couldn't have chosen any course that would have sealed him to you so
surely.
Pages:
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407