"But where'd yer git the two and two?" asked Mrs. Putnam.
"Oh, I have surmised for a long time," continued Lindy. "This morning I
asked Samanthy where she was going, and she said down to Pettengill's.
Then I knew."
"I told her not to tell," said Mrs. Putnam, "the lyin' jade. If I git up
off this bed she'll git her walkin' ticket."
"She's ready to go," said Lindy; "she told me this morning that she'd
wait until you got a new girl."
Mrs. Putnam closed her eyes and placed both of her hands over her heart.
Despite her fortitude the intense pain wrung a groan from her.
Lindy rushed forward and dropped on her knees beside the bed. "Forgive
me, Mrs. Putnam," said she, "but you spoke such cruel words to me that I
could not help answering you in the same way. I am so sorry. I loved
your son with all my heart, and I had no right to speak so to his
mother, no matter what she said to me."
The paroxysm of pain had passed, and Mrs. Putnam was her old self again.
Looking at the girl who was kneeling with her head bowed down she said,
"I guess both of us talked about as we felt; as for loving my son, yer
had no right to, and he had no right to love you.
Pages:
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503