"
"Why are you so set on hearing her?" asked Jordan. "She ain't no kin
to you, is she?"
"No, but dearer to me--dearer to me than many of my own.
Maria thinks that is silly, but you wouldn't if you'd known
her, Jordan. Even Maria herself wouldn't, if she had known her.
It is fifteen years since she came here one summer to board.
She was a child of thirteen then, and hadn't any relations
except an old uncle who sent her to school in winter and
boarded her out in summer, and didn't care a rap about her.
The child was just starving for love, Jordan, and she got it here.
William and his brothers were just children then, and they
hadn't any sister. We all just worshipped her. She was
so sweet, Jordan. And pretty, oh my! like a little girl in a picture,
with great long curls, all black and purply and fine as spun silk,
and big dark eyes, and such pink cheeks--real wild rose cheeks.
And sing! My land! But couldn't she sing! Always singing,
every hour of the day that voice was ringing round the old place.
I used to hold my breath to hear it. She always said that she meant
to be a famous singer some day, and I never doubted it a mite.
It was born in her. Sunday evening she used to sing hymns for us.
Pages:
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137