"
She turned toward one of those fairy-like rooms, but Jordan
interrupted her desperately.
"Oh, not in there, ma'am. I'd never get it out. Just let me blunder
through it out here someways. Yes'm, Aunty Nan, she ain't very well.
She's--she's dying, I guess. And she's longing for you night and day.
Seems as if she couldn't die in peace without seeing you.
She wanted to get to Kensington to hear you sing, but that old cat
of a Mrs. William--begging you pardon, ma'am--wouldn't let her come.
She's always talking of you. If you can come out to Gull Point Farm
and see her, I'll be most awful obliged to you, ma'am."
Joscelyn Burnett looked troubled. She had not forgotten Gull Point Farm,
nor Aunty Nan; but for years the memory had been dim, crowded into the
background of consciousness by the more exciting events of her busy life.
Now it came back with a rush. She recalled it all tenderly--
the peace and beauty and love of that olden summer, and sweet Aunty Nan,
so very wise in the lore of all things simple and good and true.
For the moment Joscelyn Burnett was a lonely, hungry-hearted little
girl again, seeking for love and finding it not, until Aunty Nan had
taken her into her great mother-heart and taught her its meaning.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144