I didn't pretend to mind much what she said, and
used to tell the girls, and they'd tell me, too, and we'd laugh. Only one
time, she was talkin' to me, and it seemed as though I couldn't hold out
no longer, and I cried and cried, and when I got up I felt happy. Just as
though He was there. Seemed as though He was all around everywhere, and
goin' down the lane, there was a whip-poor-will singin', and it sounded
like it never had before--so strange and happy--and I always loved 'em
after that--but I never shall again.

"And I tried to be good, and quieter, and have the other girls and the
children at home; and when father was drunk and noisy, and some of the
folks laughed, I wouldn't give up--quite. Oh, I didn't feel like I was
bad then! I didn't! You might remember that. I hadn't much manners, but I
never thought anything bad. Some time you might remember that.

"Then Mr. Rollin came, and he might 'a' killed me, and it 'ud been a
kindness; but he hadn't no such kind heart as that. He used to make
excuses for meetin' me. He wouldn't look at any of the other girls. He
said he couldn't see no beauty in anybody else. He said I was the only
one on earth he loved. He said he wouldn't care what became of him if I
wasn't good to him.

"I thought George never talked to me so much as that, and I trusted him
every word. It was all so different. I thought I loved him, too. He
talked about how he should take me to Providence, and I said I hadn't
much manners or education, and they'd laugh at me. He said there wasn't
another such a face there, and if he was suited, they might laugh. And he
used to talk about how I'd look all dressed up in his house, down
there--and I don't see! I don't see! I trusted every word.

"It wouldn't have been no different, anyway. I loved you when you came.
When he went with you, I tried to hate you. I hated him, but I never
hated you! In my heart, teacher, I never hated you. You might think of
that, some time----"

"Well, my dear little girl," I interrupted her; "it seems we have both
been deceived in the fisherman, but, doubtless, we shall recover in time.
You don't like him, neither do I. We'll dismiss the subject from our
minds, forever. There's a good, honest boy here in Wallencamp that a girl
I know ought to busy her head about. Why trouble ourselves with
disagreeable things?"

"You might think, some time," Rebecca went on, with the same hopeless
expression, and in the same tense voice; "I never