Naturally, then, Ellen made the mistake of taking them in her hands to feel their softness and warmth.
"Shore! He saw my bare legs! And he brought me these presents he'd intended for his sister....

He was ashamed for me--sorry for me....

And I thought he looked at me bold-like, as I'm used to be looked at heah! Isbel or not, he's shore..." But Ellen Jorth could not utter aloud the conviction her intelligence tried to force upon her.
"It'd be a pity to burn them," she mused.

"I cain't do it.

Sometime I might send them to Ann Isbel." Whereupon she wrapped them up again and hid them in the bottom of the old trunk, and slowly, as she lowered the lid, looking darkly, blankly at the wall, she whispered: "Jean Isbel! ...