Kesiah had heard of her as a coquette; now she realized that
beneath the coqueteries there was a will of iron.
"You must come to us, some day, dear, and let us do what we can to make
you happy," she said. "It would be a pity for all that money to go to
the conversion of the Chinese, who are doubtless quite happy as they
are."
"I wonder why he chose the Chinese?" replied the girl. "They seem so
far away, and there's poor little Mrs. Meadows at Piping Tree who is
starving for bread."
"He was always like that--and so is my sister Angela--the thing that
wasn't in sight was the thing he agonized over." She did not confess
that she had detected a similar weakness in herself, and that, seen the
world over, it is the indubitable mark of the sentimentalist.
Analysis of Mr. Jonathan's character, however, failed to interest his
daughter. She smiled sweetly, but indifferently, and made a movement to
pass on into the meadow. Then, looking into Kesiah's face, she said in
a warmer voice: "If ever you want my help about your store room, Miss
Kesiah, just send for me. When you're ready to change the brine on your
pickles, I'll come down and do it.
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