Next to Alan, Jean Dwight was the boy of the V, a strong, hearty,
happy young woman of fourteen, who succeeded in getting a great
deal of enjoyment out of this humdrum, work-a-day world. Her rosy
cheeks glowed and her brown eyes shone with health; for Jean was
as full of life as a young colt, and vented her superfluous energy
in climbing trees, walking fences, and running races, until Aunt
Jane and her followers raised their hands and eyes in well-bred
horror. But Jean's unselfish devotion to her mother, her real
refinement, her quick understanding, and her sound common sense
did much to atone for her hoydenish ways, and gave promise of the
fine womanhood which lay before her. At first it had been a matter
of some surprise, in the aristocratic old town, that Mrs. Adams
and Mrs. Hapgood, representatives of "our first families," as they
were universally acknowledged to be, could allow their children to
be so intimate with Jean Dwight, whose father was only a
carpenter, and whose mother took in sewing. However, any comments
were promptly silenced when Mrs. Adams had been heard to say, one
day, that she was always glad to have Polly with such a womanly
girl as Jean Dwight, so free from any nonsensical, grown-up airs.
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