We might as well get it now."
"I'm a-going out to milk," said Uncle Henry gruffly, although it was not
nearly his usual time. He took up the milk pails and marched out toward
the barn, stepping heavily, his head hanging.
Shep woke up with a snort and, getting off the couch, gamboled clumsily
up to Betsy, wagging his tail and jumping up on her, ready for a frolic.
That was almost too much for Betsy! To think that after tomorrow she
would never see Shep again--nor Eleanor! Nor the kittens! She choked as
she bent over Shep and put her arms around his neck for a great hug. But
she mustn't cry, she mustn't hurt Aunt Frances's feelings, or show that
she wasn't glad to go back to her. That wouldn't be fair, after all Aunt
Frances had done for her!
That night she lay awake after she and Molly had gone to bed and Molly
was asleep. They had decided not to tell Molly until the last minute, so
she had dropped off peacefully, as usual. But poor Betsy's eyes were
wide open. She saw a gleam of light under the door. It widened; the door
opened. Aunt Abigail stood there, in her night cap, mountainous in her
long white gown, a candle shining up into her serious old face.
"You awake, Betsy?" she whispered, seeing the child's dark eyes gleaming
at her over the covers. "I just--I just thought I'd look in to see if
you were all right." She came to the edge of the bed and set the candle
down on the little stand.
Pages:
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174