Oh, Jordan, it makes my old heart young again to remember it.
A sweet child she was, my little Joscelyn! She used to write
me for three or four years after she went away, but I haven't
heard a word from her for long and long. I daresay she has
forgotten me, as Maria says. 'Twouldn't be any wonder.
But I haven't forgotten her, and oh, I want to see and hear
her terrible much. She is to sing at the Old Timers'
concert to-morrow night at Kensington. The folks who are
getting the concert up are friends of hers, or, of course,
she'd never have come to a little country village.
Only sixteen miles away--and I can't go."
Jordan couldn't think of anything to say. He reflected savagely
that if he had a horse of his own he would take Aunty Nan
to Kensington, Mrs. William or no Mrs. William. Though, to be sure,
it WAS a long drive for her; and she was looking very frail this summer.
"Ain't going to last long," muttered Jordan, making his escape
by the porch door as Mrs. William puffed in by the other.
"The sweetest old creetur that ever was created'll go when she goes.
Yah, ye old madam, I'd like to give you a piece of my mind,
that I would!"
This last was for Mrs. William, but was delivered in a prudent undertone.
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