"Abel
stands a good chance for the legislature now, don't he?"
"I ain't a friend to that, for I never saw the man yet that came out of
politics as clean as he went into 'em, and thar ain't nothin' that
takes the place of cleanness with me." In her heart she felt for Betsey
something of the contempt which the stoic in all ranks of life feels for
the epicurean.
At supper that night Sarah repeated this conversation, and to her
astonishment, not Abel, but Blossom, went pitiably white and flinched
back sharply as if fearing a second fall of the lash.
"I don't believe it! Mr. Jonathan will never marry Molly. There's no
truth in it!" she cried.
Over the coffee-pot which she has holding, Sarah stared at her in
perplexity. "Why, whatever has come over you, Blossom?" she asked.
"You haven't been yo'self for a considerable spell, daughter," said
Abner, turning to her with a pathetic, anxious expression on his great
hairy face. "Do you feel sick or mopin'?"
He looked at Blossom as a man looks at the only thing he loves in life
when he sees that thing suffering beneath his eyes and cannot divine the
cause.
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