Don't nobody have to foreclose on me; I hand back my debt dollar
for dollar outen my own pocket without no duns. To give up the land
immediate are just simple justice to him, and I'm a-leaving the Lord
to deal with him for trying to _buy_ a woman in her time of trouble.
We haven't told it on him and we are never a-going to. I wisht I could
make the neighbors all see the jestice in his taking over the land and
not feel so spited at him. I'm afraid it will lose him every vote
along Providence Road. 'Tain't right!"
"I know it isn't," answered Rose Mary. "But when Mrs. Rucker speaks
her mind about him and Bob chokes and swells up my heart gets warm. Do
you suppose it's wrong to let a friend's trouble heat sympathy to the
boiling point? But if you don't need me I'm going down to the
milk-house to work out my last batch of butter before they come to
drive away my cows." And Rose Mary hurried down the lilac path before
Uncle Tucker could catch a glimpse of the tears that rose at the idea
of having to give up the beloved Mrs. Butter and her tribe of
gentle-eyed daughters.
And as she stood in the cool gray depths of the old milk-house Rose
Mary's gentle heart throbbed with pain as she pressed the great cakes
of the golden treasure back and forth in the blue bowl, for it was a
quiet time and Rose Mary was tearing up some of her own roots. Her sad
eyes looked out over Harpeth Valley, which lay in a swoon with the
midsummer heat. The lush blue-grass rose almost knee deep around the
grazing cattle in the meadows, and in the fields the green grain was
fast turning to a harvest hue.
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