The rector thinks that I'll
marry him and turn pious and take to Dorcas societies, and Jim Halloween
thinks I'll marry him and grow thrifty and take to turkey raising--and
you believe in the bottom of your heart that in the end I'll fall
into your arms and find happiness with your mother. But you're
wrong--all--all--and I shan't do any of the things you expect of me. I
am going to stay here as long as grandfather lives, so I can take care
of him, and then I'll run off somewhere to the city and trim hats for a
living. When I was at school in Applegate I trimmed hats for all of the
pupils."
"Oh, Molly, Molly, I'll not give you up! Some day you'll see things
differently."
"Never--never. Now, I've warned you and it isn't my fault if you keep on
after this."
"But you do like me a little, haven't you said so?"
Her frown deepened.
"Yes, I do like you--a little."
"Then I'll keep on hoping, anyhow."
Her smile came back, but this time it had grown mocking.
"No, you mustn't hope," she answered, "at least," she corrected
provokingly, "you mustn't hope--too hard."
"I'll hope as hard as the devil, darling--and, Molly, if you marry me,
you know, you won't have to live with my mother.
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