They said that gran'fathah didn't love her any moah, an' it was just a-killin' her." Mom Beck frowned fiercely.
The child's grief was so deep and intense that she did not know just how to quiet her.

Then she said, decidedly, "Well, if that's all that's a-troublin' you, you can jus' get down an' walk home on yo' own laigs.
Yo' mamma's a-grievin' 'cause yo' papa has to be away all the time.
She's all wo'n out, too, with the work of movin', when she's nevah been used to doin' anything.

But her heart isn't broke any moah'n my neck is." The positive words and the decided toss Mom Beck gave her head settled the matter for the Little Colonel.

She wiped her eyes and stood up much relieved.
"Don't you nevah go to worryin' 'bout what you heahs," continued the woman.

"I tell you p'intedly you cyarnt nevah b'lieve what you heahs." "Why doesn't gran'fathah love my mothah ?" asked the child, as they came in sight of the cottage.