I drew my chair up confidentially close to Grandma Keeler's, and rested
my arms on the table as I looked into her face.
"Grandma!" I said, for I knew that she was better pleased to have me call
her that; "I begin to think that I ought never to have come to Wallencamp
on a mission, that perhaps it would be just as well if I had never come
to Wallencamp at all, I mean. I didn't think. At first, it seemed more
than anything else, like something very new to entertain myself with. I
didn't think enough of the responsibility. Then, perhaps, I thought too
much of it. I don't know. I wish I were out of it all. Grandma, I never
tried to do the right thing so hard before in my life. I never worked so
hard before--and I don't mind that; but I meant it all for the best, and
it's no use, it's just like all the rest. I'm tired. I wish I were out of
it."
"Wall, thar' now, darlin'," said Grandma, employing to the full her tone
of infinite consolation. "You ain't the first one as mistook a stump for
livin' creetur in the night, and don't you talk about givin' up nor
nothin' like it, darlin', for we couldn't do without you noways--nor you
without us, for yet a while, I'm thinkin', though it does seem
strange--and never you mind one straw for what Madeline said, for she was
kind o' out to-night, anyway, not having got no letter from Philander, I
suppose.
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