I knew a great many girls, at school--girls with every
advantage of wealth and culture, too, who had not half of Rebecca's grace
and refinement, nor a tenth part of her beauty!"
Madeline said nothing, bending to her work with the same bitter
compression of the lips.
"It's right you should stand up for her, teacher," said Grandma Keeler,
pleasantly. "Miss Waite, she begun by makin' a kind o' pet o' her, but I
don't think Rebecca ever set her heart on her as she has on you, and it's
easy to see you've took lots o' pains with her. She's a gittin' them same
kind o' sorter interestin' high-flowed ways--why, she used to be just
like the rest of 'em--jest sich a rompin', roarin' thing as Drussilly
Weir is now."
"Goodness gracious, ma!" Madeline put in again, sharply. "What good is it
going to do Beck Weir to put on airs? Better stick to her own ways, and
her own folks--she'll find they'll stand by her best in the end, I
guess--than to be fillin' her head with notions to hurt her feelin's over
by and by. She's a fool, I think, for treatin' George Olver as she does.
He's worth a dozen Dave Rollins, if his coat don't set quite so fine, and
would work his fingers off to suit her if she'd only settle down to him
and be sensible.
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