"
"Thank you, Molly," answered the other; "you're a nice light hand for
such things."
In some almost imperceptible manner she felt that the girl had rebuffed
her. The conversation had been pleasant enough, yet Kesiah had meant
to show in it that she considered Molly's position changed since the
evening before; and it was this very suggestion that the girl had tossed
lightly aside--tossed without rudeness or malice, but with a firmness,
a finality, which appeared to settle the question forever. The
acknowledged daughter of Mr. Jonathan Gay was determined that she
should continue to be known merely as the granddaughter of his overseer.
Kesiah's overtures, had been--well, not exactly repulsed, but certainly
ignored; her advice had melted to thin air as soon as it was spoken.
As Molly flitted from her over the young weeds in the meadow, the older
woman stood looking after her with a heaviness, like the weight of
unshed tears, in her eyes. Not the girl's future, but her own, appeared
to her barren of interest, robbed even of hope. The spirit that combats,
she saw, had never been hers--nor had the courage that prevails.
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