"Let me sit on your knee and I will
tell you everything."
At the best it was a sad story, a story full of wrong-doing, full of
impulse, full of passion; and although Kitty tried hard to make Elma's
part of it as light as possible, the squire's eyes blazed and a
thundering note came into his voice as he listened.
"That's a bad girl, Kitty," he cried; "and you ought to have nothing to
do with her."
"But that's exactly it, father--that's what I am coming to. If you
won't let me have anything to do with Elma, why--why, you must punish me
terribly. I want you to let me--to let me make Elma my real friend."
"That sort of girl your friend? Not if I know it," said the squire.
"But, please, father, do let me plead for her. I have done her injury,
and she--she has never had advantages like the rest of us."
Then Kitty began to coax, and few, very few people could coax like this
Irish girl. Not only with her voice, but with her eyes, with a smile
here and a frown there, she set herself to bring old Squire Malone to
her way of thinking. And as always from the time she was a tiny child
she had been able to twist this old lion round her little finger, so she
twisted him now.
"You have got to do it, father," she said at last. "You have got to
forgive Laurie, and you have got to forgive Elma, and----"
"Bless the boy, it was just like his recklessness, Why didn't he come
and tell me? He wasn't afraid of his old father, was he?"
"Well, father, you know you are very fierce when you like.
Pages:
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363