It
doesn't seem as if that grievance, seventeen or eighteen years
ago, would influence his opinion of your mother, or of you."
"It isn't likely that a man of your father's sort would forget or
forgive what he considered an injury; and in refusing to have
anything to do with the son of a disgraced man and a deranged
woman, he is well within his rights."
Ivory's cheeks burned red under the tan, and his hand trembled a
little as he plucked bits of clover from the grass and pulled
them to pieces absent-mindedly. "How are you getting on at home
these days, Waitstill?" he asked, as if to turn his own mind and
hers from a too painful subject.
"You have troubles enough of your own without hearing mine,
Ivory, and anyway they are not big afflictions, heavy sorrows,
like those you have to bear. Mine are just petty, nagging,
sordid, cheap little miseries, like gnat-bites;--so petty and so
sordid that I can hardly talk to God about them, much less to a
human friend. Patty is my only outlet and I need others, yet I
find it almost impossible to escape from the narrowness of my
life and be of use to any one else." The girl's voice quivered
and a single tear-drop on her cheek showed that she was speaking
from a full heart.
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