"
"I am over eighteen, Mrs. Flaxman. I wonder why you and Mr. Winthrop
persist in making me out a child. When will I be a woman?"
"Not till your heart gets wakened."
"I wonder when that will be. Does it mean love and marriage, Mrs.
Flaxman?"
"It means the former; the latter may not follow with you."
"Why not? But there, I do not want to leave you and Mr. Winthrop and
Oaklands. No man could tempt me from you. But what did you mean by saying
that I might love and yet not marry?"
"Because you are too true to your woman's instincts to marry any one
unless it was the man you loved."
I fell into a brown study over her words, and the conversation was not
again resumed.
CHAPTER XVI.
HOPE REALIZED.
Mrs. Larkum's recovery was slow, and it required all the nourishing food
we could provide to start the springs of life working healthfully. Her
mind had dwelt so long upon her bereavement, and dark outlook into the
future that a naturally robust, and well-fed person might have succumbed,
but when to a delicate organization had been added the most meagre fare
possible to support human existence, it was no wonder nature rebelled.
It was a new experience to me, and a very agreeable one, to watch the
pinched faces of the children grow round and rosy, and to hear their
merry laughter.
The mother waited with feverish anxiety for tidings from her father, but
for several weeks no word came; at last she began to fear he might have
died under the strain of the operation.
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