"Here she is, mother! Oh! here she is!" cried Miriam, pulling at
Marian's dress and drawing her in the house.
"Oh! Marian, how anxious you have made us! Where have you been?" asked
Edith, in a tone half of love, half of vexation.
"I have been detained," said Marian, in a low voice.
The cottage room was very inviting. The evening was just chilly enough
to make the bright little wood fire agreeable. On the clean hearth
before it sat the tea-pot and a covered plate of toast waiting for
Marian. And old Jenny got up and sat out a little stand, covered it with
a white napkin, and put the tea and toast, with the addition of a piece
of cold chicken and a saucer of preserves, upon it. And Marian laid off
her straw bonnet and muslin scarf and sat down and tried to eat, for
affectionate eyes had already noticed the trouble of her countenance,
and were watching her now with anxiety.
"You do not seem to have an appetite, dear; what is the matter?" asked
Edith.
"I am not very well," said Marian, rising and leaving the table, and
refraining with difficulty from bursting into tears.
"It's dat ar cussed infunnelly party at Lockemup--last Toosday!" said
Jenny, as she cleared away the tea service--"a-screwin' up tight in
cusseds an' ball-dresses! an' a-dancing all night till broad daylight!
'sides heavin' of ever so much unwholesome 'fectionery trash down her
t'roat--de constitution ob de United States hisself couldn't stan' sich!
much less a delicy young gall! I 'vises ov you, honey, to go to bed.
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