Tears sprang to her
eyes at this evidence of her mother's heartlessness, and one bright drop
fell on Enna's wrist.
"There you have stained my glove!" she exclaimed angrily. "What a baby you
are! will you never have done with this continued crying?"
"It seems to be very easy for you to bear my troubles, mother," returned
poor Molly, raising her head proudly, and dashing away the tears, "I will
try to learn to bear them too, and never again appeal to my mother for
sympathy."
"You get enough of that from Dick, he cares ten times as much for you as
he does for me--his own mother."
At that moment Betty came running in. "Mother, the carriage is at the
door, and grandpa's ready. Molly, grandpa says he'll take you too, if you
want to go."
Molly's face brightened, but before she could speak, Enna answered for
her. "No, she can't; there isn't time to get her ready."
Mrs. Johnson hurried from the room, Betty following close at her heels,
and Molly was left alone in her grief and weariness.
She watched the carriage as it rolled down the avenue, then turning from
the window, indulged in a hearty cry.
Pages:
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144