Atherton's waiting maid, and
she don't let me play with boys. Only Tim Doolittle and I went
huckleberrying once, but I hate him, he has such great warts on
his hands," and having thus given her opinion of Tim Doolittle,
Edith snatched up her bonnet and placed it upon her head, for the
old man was evidently determined to touch her crow-black hair.
Her answer, however, changed the current of his thoughts, and
while a look of intense pain flitted across his face, he whispered
mournfully, "The same old story they all tell. I might have known
it, but this one looked so fresh, so truthful, that I thought
maybe she'd seen him. Mrs. Atherton's waiting maid," and he turned
toward Edith--"Charlie's dead, and we all walk in darkness now,
Richard and all."
This allusion to Richard reminded Edith of her errand, and
thinking to herself, "I'll ask the crazy old thing if there's a
lady here," she ran after him as he walked slowly away and
catching him by the arm, said, "Tell me, please, is there any Mrs.
Richard Harrington?"
"Not that I know of.
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