"Oh, Mrs. Willoughby must talk if the heavens fell. It seems that she met
this Northern girl abroad, and that they have become great friends. She
has received a letter, and it is quite probable that this girl will come
here. It would be just like her to follow up her new admirer. Mrs.
Willoughby is so hot in her advocacy of what she terms the 'New South,'
that she must speak of everything which seems to favor her pestilential
ideas. By birth she belongs to the Old South and the only true South, and
she tries to keep in with it, but she is getting the cold shoulder from
more than one."
Mara said nothing, but her brow contracted.
"You take it very quietly," remarked her aunt severely.
"Yes," said Mara.
"Well, if I were in your place I would be on fire with indignation."
"Perhaps I would be if I did not care very much," was the girl's
constrained answer.
"I do not see how you can care except as I do."
"You are you, aunty, and I am myself. People are not all made exactly
alike."
"But a girl should have some self-respect."
"Yes, aunty, and she should be respected. I am one to show my self-respect
by deeds, not words. You must not lecture me any more now as if I were a
child," and she rose and left her almost untasted dinner.
A little thought soon satisfied Mrs. Hunter that the iron had entered deep
into the soul of her niece, and that her deeds would be satisfactory.
Pages:
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108