Or it might
of been Georgia.
I thinks to myself that mebby Mrs. Davis would
like to know where her niece is, and that I better
tell her about Miss Hampton being in that there
little Indiany town, and where it is. And then I
thinks to myself I better not butt in. Fur Miss
Hampton has likely got her own reasons fur keeping
away from her folks, or else she wouldn't do it.
Anyhow, it's none of MY affair to bring the subject
up to 'em. It looks to me like one of them things
George has been gassing about--one of them
things that has settled itself, and it ain't fur me to
meddle and unsettle it.
It set me to thinking about Martha, too. Not
that I hadn't thought of her lots of times. I had
often thought I would write her. But I kept putting
it off, and purty soon I kind of forgot Martha. I
had seen a lot of different girls of all kinds since I
had seen Martha. Yet, whenever I happened to
think of Martha, I had always liked her best. Only
moving around the country so much makes it kind
of hard to keep thinking steady of the same girl.
Besides, I had lost that there half of a ring,
too.
But knowing what I did now about Miss Hampton
being Miss Buckner--or Mrs. Armstrong--and
related to these Davises made me want to get away
from there. Fur that secret made me feel kind of
sneaking, like I wasn't being frank and open with
them.
Pages:
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190