Now, this
'Flossy' you tell me about (of all the fool names I ever hearn tell of,
that beats all,--sounds like a wax doll, with her clo'se sewed on!), was
she a young woman?"
"I don't know whether she was young or not," said Tim, in a puzzled
tone. "She had young yellow hair, and very young shiny teeth, white as
china; but her neck was crackled underneath, like Miss Vilda's;--it had
no kissing places in it like Gay's."
"Well, you stay here in the kitchen a spell now, 'n' don't let in that
rag-dog o' yourn till he stops scratching if he keeps it up till the
crack o' doom;--he's got to be learned better manners. Now, I'll go in
'n' talk to Miss Vildy. She may keep you over night, 'n' she may not; I
ain't noways sure. You started in wrong foot foremost."
SCENE VI.
_The White Farm. Evening._
TIMOTHY, LADY GAY, AND RAGS PROVE FAITHFUL TO EACH OTHER.
Samantha went into the sitting-room and told the whole story to Miss
Avilda; told it simply and plainly, for she was not given to arabesques
in language, and then waited for a response.
"Well, what do you advise doin'?" asked Miss Cummins nervously.
"I don't feel comp'tent to advise, Vilda; the house ain't mine, nor yet
the beds that's in it, nor the victuals in the butt'ry; but as a
professin' Christian and member of the Orthodox Church in good and
reg'lar standin' you can't turn 'em ou'doors when it's comin' on dark
and they ain't got no place to sleep."
"Plenty of good Orthodox folks turned their backs on Martha when she was
in trouble.
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