The Blue Castle, Part 8

Please enjoy this continued reading of "The Blue Castle", a delightful 1926 Canadian novel from author Lucy Maud Montgomery, best known for her 1908 book "Anne of Green Gables".

Follow along as we hear how Valancy Stirling's dull life as a 29-year-old "old maid" is transformed by a life-changing medical diagnosis and subsequent foray into the world of romance, in search of the man and "Blue Castle" of her dreams!

Trigger Warning: This practice may include references to death, dying, and the departed.

Transcript

Hello there.

Thank you so much for joining me for this next part of the reading of The Blue Castle,

Which is a novel from 1926 from the author Lucy Maud Montgomery,

Who was a Canadian author best known for her book Anne of Green Gables.

So before we move into this next part of The Blue Castle,

Let's just take a moment here,

A nice deep exhale,

Letting go of the day,

Letting go of whatever baggage we're bringing along with us.

Right now there's nothing else for us to do.

Nowhere else to be.

We can just relax,

Get comfortable,

And listen to the next part of the story of The Blue Castle.

Chapter 17.

When Valancy had lived for a week at Roaring Ables,

She felt as if years had separated her from her old life and all the people she had known in it.

They were beginning to seem remote,

Dreamlike,

Far away,

And as the days went on they seemed still more so,

Until they ceased to matter altogether.

She was happy.

Nobody ever bothered her with conundrums or insisted on giving her purple pills.

Nobody called her Doss or worried her about catching cold.

There were no quilts to piece,

No abominable rubber plant to water,

No ice-cold maternal tantrums to endure.

She could be alone whenever she liked,

Go to bed when she liked,

Sneeze when she liked.

In the long,

Wondrous northern twilights,

When Sissy was asleep and Roaring Able away,

She could sit for hours on the shaky back veranda steps,

Looking out over the barrens to the hills beyond,

Covered with their fine purple bloom,

Listening to the friendly wind singing wild,

Sweet melodies in the little spruces,

And drinking in the aroma of the sunned grasses,

Until darkness flowed over the landscape like a cool,

Welcome wave.

Sometimes of an afternoon,

When Sissy was strong enough,

The two girls went into the barrens and looked at the woodflowers.

But they did not pick any.

Balancy had read to Sissy the gospel thereof according to John Foster.

It is a pity to gather woodflowers.

They lose half their witchery away from the green and the flicker.

The way to enjoy woodflowers is to track them down to their remote haunts,

Gloat over them,

And then leave them with backward glances,

Taking with us only the beguiling memory of their grace and fragrance.

Balancy was in the midst of realities,

After a lifetime of unrealities,

And busy,

Very busy.

The house had to be cleaned.

Not for nothing had Balancy been brought up in the sterling habits of neatness and cleanliness.

If she found satisfaction in cleaning dirty rooms,

She got her fill of it there.

Roaring Abel thought she was foolish to bother doing so much more than she was asked to do,

But he did not interfere with her.

He was very well satisfied with his bargain.

Balancy was a good cook.

Abel said she got a flavour into things.

The only fault he found with her was that she did not sing at her work.

Folks should always sing at their work,

He insisted.

Sounds cheerful-like.

Not always,

Retorted Balancy.

Fancy a butcher singing at his work,

Or an undertaker.

Abel burst into his great broad laugh.

There's no getting the better of you.

You've got an answer every time.

I should think the Stirlings would be glad to be rid of you.

They don't like being sassed back.

During the day,

Abel was generally away from home.

If not working,

Then shooting or fishing with Barney Snaith.

He generally came home at night,

Always very late,

And often very drunk.

The first night they heard him come howling into the yard.

Sissy had told Balancy not to be afraid.

Father never does anything,

He just makes a noise.

Balancy,

Lying on the sofa in Sissy's room,

Where she had elected to sleep lest Sissy should need attention in the night,

Sissy would never have called her,

Was not at all afraid,

And said so.

By the time Abel had got his horses put away,

The roaring stage had passed and he was in his room at the end of the hall,

Crying and praying.

Balancy could still hear his dismal moans when she went calmly to sleep.

For the most part,

Abel was a good-natured creature,

But occasionally he had a temper.

Once Balancy asked him coolly,

What is the use of getting in a rage?

It's such a damned relief,

Said Abel.

They both burst out laughing together.

You're a great little sport,

Said Abel admiringly.

Don't mind my bad French,

I don't mean a thing by it,

Just abit.

Say,

I like a woman that ain't afraid to speak up to me.

Sis there was always too meek,

Too meek.

That's why she got adrift.

I like you.

All the same,

Said Balancy determinedly,

There is no use in sending things to hell,

As you're always doing,

And I am not going to have you tracking mud all over a floor I've just scrubbed.

You must use the scraper,

Whether you can sign it to perdition or not.

Sissy loved the cleanness and neatness.

She had kept it so too,

Until her strength failed.

She was very pitifully happy because she had for Balancy with her.

It had been so terrible.

The long,

Lonely days and nights with no companionship,

Save those dreadful old women who came to work,

Sissy had hated and feared them.

She clung to Balancy like a child.

There was no doubt that Sissy was dying,

Yet at no time did she seem alarmingly ill.

She did not even cough a great deal.

Most days she was able to get up and dress,

Sometimes even to work about in the garden or the barrens for an hour or two.

For a few weeks after Balancy's coming,

She seemed so much better that Balancy began to hope she might get well,

But Sissy shook her head.

No,

I can't get well.

My lungs are almost gone and I don't want to.

I'm so tired,

Balancy.

Only dying can rest me.

But it's lovely to have you here.

You'll never know how much it means to me.

But Balancy,

You work too hard.

You don't need to.

Father only wants his meals cooked.

I don't think you were strong enough.

You turn so pale sometimes.

And those drops you take,

Are you well,

Dear?

I'm all right,

Said Balancy lightly.

She would not have Sissy worried.

And I'm not working hard.

I'm glad to have some work to do.

Something that really wants to be done.

Then Sissy slipped her hand wistfully into Balancy's.

Don't let's talk anymore about my being sick.

Let's just forget it.

Let's pretend I'm a little girl again and you have come here to play with me.

I used to wish that long ago.

Wish that you could come.

I knew you couldn't,

Of course,

But how I did wish it.

You always seemed so different from the other girls.

So kind and sweet and as if you had something in yourself nobody knew about.

Some dear pretty secret?

Had you,

Balancy?

I had my blue castle,

Said Balancy laughing a little.

She was pleased that Sissy had thought of her like this.

She had never suspected that anybody liked or admired or wondered about her.

She told Sissy all about her blue castle.

She had never told anyone about it before.

Everyone has a blue castle,

I think,

Said Sissy softly.

Only everyone has a different name for it.

I had mine once.

She put her two thin little hands over her face.

She did not tell Balancy then,

Who had destroyed her blue castle,

But Balancy knew that whoever it was,

It was not Barney Snaith.

Chapter 18.

Balancy was acquainted with Barney by now.

Well acquainted,

It seemed,

Though she had spoken to him only a few times.

But then she had felt just as well acquainted with him the first time they had met.

She had been in the garden at twilight,

Hunting for a few stalks of white narcissus for Sissy's room,

When she heard that terrible old grey slothen coming down through the woods from Miss Darwess.

One could hear it miles away.

Balancy did not look up as it drew near,

Thumping over the rocks in that crazy lane.

She had never looked up,

Though Barney had gone racketing past every evening since she had been at Roaring Ables.

This time he did not racket past.

The old grey slothen stopped with even more terrible noises than it made going.

Balancy was conscious that Barney had sprung from it,

And was leaning over the ramshackle gate.

She suddenly straightened up and looked into his face.

Their eyes met.

Balancy was suddenly conscious of a delicious weakness.

This was one of her heart attacks coming on.

But this was a new symptom.

His eyes,

Which she had always thought brown,

Now seen close,

Were deep violet,

Translucent,

And intense.

Neither of his eyebrows looked like the other.

He was thin,

Too thin.

She wished she could feed him up a bit.

She wished she could sew the buttons on his coat and make him cut his hair and shave every day.

There was something in his face.

One hardly knew what it was.

Tiredness?

Sadness?

Disillusionment?

He had dimples in his thin cheeks when he smiled.

All these thoughts flashed through Balancy's mind in that one moment while his eyes looked into hers.

Good evening,

Miss Stirling.

Nothing could be more commonplace and conventional.

Anyone might have said it,

But Barney Snaith had a way of saying things that gave them poignancy.

When he said good evening,

You felt that it was a good evening,

And that it was partly his doing that it was.

Also,

You felt that some of the credit was yours?

Balancy felt all this vaguely,

But she couldn't imagine why she was trembling from head to foot.

It must be her heart.

If only he didn't notice it.

I'm going over to the port,

Barney was saying.

Can I acquire merit by getting or doing anything there for you or Sissy?

Will you get some salt codfish for us?

Said Balancy.

It was the only thing she could think of.

Roaring Abel had expressed a desire that day for a dinner of boiled salt codfish.

When her knights came riding to the Blue Castle,

Balancy had sent them on many a quest,

But she had never asked any of them to get her salt codfish.

Certainly.

You're sure there's nothing else?

Lots of room in Lady Jane Grey's Slosson,

And she always gets back some time,

Does Lady Jane.

I don't think there's anything more,

Said Balancy.

She knew he would bring oranges for Sissy anyhow,

He always did.

Barney did not turn away at once.

He was silent for a little.

Then he said slowly and whimsically,

Miss Stirling,

You're a brick.

You're a whole cartload of bricks.

To come here and look after Sissy under the circumstances.

There's nothing so bricky about that,

Said Balancy.

I'd nothing else to do,

And I like it here.

I don't feel as if I'd done anything specially meritorious.

Mr.

Gay is paying me fair wages.

I never earned any money before,

And I like it.

It seemed so easy to talk to Barney Snaith some way.

This terrible Barney Snaith of the lurid tales and mysterious past.

As easy and natural as if talking to herself.

All the money in the world couldn't buy what you're doing for Sissy Gay,

Said Barney.

It's splendid and fine of you,

And if there's anything I can do to help you in any way,

You have only to let me know.

If Roaring Able ever tries to annoy you,

He doesn't.

He's lovely to me.

I like Roaring Able,

Said Balancy,

Frankly.

So do I,

But there's one stage of his drunkenness,

Perhaps you haven't encountered it yet,

When he sings ribald songs.

Oh yes.

He came home last night like that.

Sissy and I just went to our room and shut ourselves in where we couldn't hear him.

He apologised this morning.

I'm not afraid of any of Roaring Able's stages.

Well,

I'm sure he'll be decent to you,

Apart from his inebriated yowls,

Said Barney,

And I've told him he's got to stop damning things when you're around.

Why,

Asked for Balancy slyly,

With one of her odd slanted glances and a sudden flake of pink on each cheek,

Born of the thought that Barney Snaith had actually done so much for her,

I often feel like damning things myself.

For a moment,

Barney stared.

Was this elfin girl the little old maidish creature who had stood there two minutes ago?

Surely there was magic and devilry going on in that shabby,

Weedy old garden.

Then he laughed.

It will be a relief to have someone to do it for you then.

So,

You don't want anything but salt codfish?

Not tonight.

But I dare say I'll have some errands for you very often when you go to Port Lawrence.

I can't trust Mr Gay to remember to bring all the things I want.

Barney had gone away then in his Lady Jane,

And Valancy stood in the garden for a long time.

Since then,

He had called several times,

Walking down through the barrens,

Whistling.

How that whistle of his echoed through the spruces on those June twilights.

Valancy caught herself listening for it every evening,

Rebuked herself,

Then let herself go.

Why shouldn't she listen for it?

He always brought Sissy fruit and flowers.

Once he brought Valancy a box of candy.

The first box of candy she had ever been given.

It seemed sacrilege to eat it.

She found herself thinking of him in season and out of season.

She wanted to know if he ever thought about her when she wasn't before his eyes.

And if so,

What?

She wanted to see that mysterious house of his back on the Mastawis Island.

Sissy had never seen it.

Sissy,

Though she talked freely of Barney and had known him for five years,

Really knew little more of him than Valancy herself.

But he isn't bad,

Said Sissy.

Nobody need ever tell me he is.

He can't have done a thing to be ashamed of.

Then why does he live as he does,

Asked Valancy,

To hear somebody defend him.

I don't know.

He's a mystery.

And of course there's something behind it,

But I know it isn't disgrace.

Barney Snaith simply couldn't do anything disgraceful,

Valancy.

Valancy was not so sure.

Barney must have done something,

Sometime.

He was a man of education and intelligence.

She had soon discovered that in listening to his conversations and wrangles with Roaring Abel,

Who was surprisingly well-read and could discuss any subject under the sun when sober,

Such a man wouldn't bury himself for five years in Muskoka and live and look like a tramp if there were not,

Too good or bad,

A reason for it.

But it didn't matter.

All that mattered was that she was sure now that he had never been Sissy Gay's lover.

There was nothing like that between them.

Though he was very fond of Sissy and she of him,

As anyone could see,

But it was a fondness that didn't worry Valancy.

You don't know what Barney has been to me these past two years,

Sissy had said simply.

Everything would have been unbearable without him.

Sissy Gay is the sweetest girl I ever knew and there's a man somewhere I'd like to shoot if I could find him,

Barney had said savagely.

Barney was an interesting talker,

With a knack of telling a great deal about his adventures and nothing at all about himself.

There was one glorious rainy day when Barney and Abel swapped yarns all the afternoon while Valancy mended tablecloths and listened.

Barney told weird tales of his adventures with shacks on trains while hoboing it across the continent.

Valancy thought she ought to think his stealing rides quite dreadful,

But didn't.

The story of his working his way to England on a cattle ship sounded more legitimate and his yarns of the Yukon enthralled her,

Especially the one of the night he was lost on the divide between Gold Run and Sulphur Valley.

He had spent two years out there.

Where in all this was there room for the penitentiary and the other things?

If he were telling the truth.

But Valancy knew he was.

Found no gold,

He said.

Came away poorer than when I went,

But such a place to live.

Those silences at the back of the north wind got me.

I've never belonged to myself since.

Yet he was not a great talker.

He told a great deal in a few well-chosen words.

How well-chosen,

Valancy did not realise,

And he had a knack of saying things without opening his mouth at all.

I like a man whose eyes say more than his lips,

Thought Valancy.

But then she liked everything about him.

His tawny hair,

His whimsical smiles,

The little glints of fun in his eyes,

His loyal affection for that unspeakable Lady Jane,

His habit of sitting with his hands in his pockets,

His chin sunk on his breast,

Looking up from under his mismated eyebrows.

She liked his nice voice,

Which sounded as if it might become caressing or wooing with very little provocation.

She was,

At times,

Almost afraid to let herself think these thoughts.

They were so vivid that she felt as if the others must know what she was thinking.

I've been watching a woodpecker all day,

He said one evening,

On the shaky old back veranda.

His account of the woodpecker's doings was satisfying.

He had often some gay or cunning little anecdote of the woodfolk to tell them.

And sometimes he and Roaring Abel smoked fiercely the whole evening,

And never said a word,

While Sissy lay in the hammock,

Swung between the veranda posts,

And Valancy sat idly on the steps,

Her hands clasped over her knees,

And wondered dreamily if she were really Valancy Stirling,

And if it were only three weeks since she had left the ugly old house on Elm Street.

The barons lay before her in a white moon splendour,

Where dozens of little rabbits frisked.

Barney,

When he liked,

Could sit down on the edge of the barons and lure those rabbits right to him by some mysterious sorcery he possessed.

Valancy had once seen a squirrel leap from a scrub pine to his shoulder,

And sit there chattering to him.

It reminded her of John Foster.

It was one of the delights of Valancy's new life that she could read John Foster's books as often and as long as she liked.

She could read them in bed if she wanted to.

She read them all to Sissy,

Who loved them.

She also tried to read them to Abel and Barney,

Who did not love them.

Abel was bored,

And Barney politely refused to listen at all.

At all.

Piffle,

Said Barney.

Chapter Nineteen Of course,

The Stirlings had not left the poor maniac alone all this time,

Or refrained from heroic efforts to rescue her perishing soul and reputation.

Uncle James,

Whose lawyer had helped him as little as his doctor,

Came one day and,

Finding Valancy alone in the kitchen,

As he supposed,

Gave her a terrible talking-to.

Told her she was breaking her mother's heart and disgracing her family.

But why,

Said Valancy,

Not ceasing to scour her porridge pot decently.

I'm doing honest work for honest pay.

What is there in that that is disgraceful?

Don't quibble,

Valancy,

Said Uncle James solemnly.

This is no fit place for you to be,

And you know it.

Why,

I'm told that jailbird Snaith is hanging around here every evening.

Not every evening,

Said Valancy reflectively.

No,

Not quite every evening.

It's insufferable,

Said Uncle James violently.

Valancy,

You must come home.

We won't judge you harshly,

I assure you.

We won't.

We will overlook all this.

Thank you,

Said Valancy.

Have you no sense of shame,

Demanded Uncle James.

Oh,

Yes,

But the things I am ashamed of are not the things you are ashamed of.

Valancy proceeded to rinse her dishcloth meticulously.

Still,

Was Uncle James patient.

He gripped the sides of his chair and ground his teeth.

We know your mind isn't just right.

We'll make allowances,

But you must come home.

You shall not stay here with that drunken,

Blasphemous old scoundrel.

Were you by any chance referring to me,

Mr.

Stirling,

Demanded Roaring Abel,

Suddenly appearing in the doorway of the back veranda where he had been smoking a peaceful pipe and listening to old Jim Stirling's tirade with huge enjoyment.

His red beard fairly bristled with indignation and his huge eyebrows quivered.

But cowardice was not among James Stirling's shortcomings.

I was.

And furthermore,

I want to tell you that you have acted an iniquitous part in luring this weak and unfortunate girl away from her home and friends,

And I will have you punished yet for it.

James Stirling got no further.

Roaring Abel crossed the kitchen at a bound,

Caught him by his collar and his trousers,

And hurled him through the doorway and over the garden paling with as little apparent effort as he might have employed in whisking a troublesome Next time you come back here,

He bellowed,

I'll throw you through the window and all the better if the window's shut.

Come in here,

Thinking yourself God to put the world to rights.

Valancy candidly and unashamedly owned to herself that she had seen few more satisfying sights than Uncle James's coattails flying out into the asparagus bed.

She had once been afraid into the asparagus bed.

She had once been afraid of this man's judgment.

Now she saw clearly that he was nothing but a rather stupid little village tin god.

Roaring Abel turned with his great broad laugh.

He'll think of that for years.

When he wakes up in the night,

The Almighty made a mistake in making so many stirlings.

But since they are made,

We've got to reckon with them.

Too many to kill out.

But if they come here bothering you,

I'll shoo them off before a cat could lick its ear.

The next time they sent Dr.

Stalling,

Surely Roaring Abel would not throw him into asparagus beds.

Dr.

Stalling was not so sure of this and had no great liking for the task.

He did not believe Valancy Stirling was out of her mind.

She had always been queer.

He,

Dr.

Stalling,

Had never been able to understand her.

Therefore,

Beyond doubt,

She was queer.

She was only just a little queerer than usual now.

And Dr.

Stalling had his own reasons for disliking Roaring Abel.

When Dr.

Stalling had first come to Deerwood,

He had had a liking for long hikes around Mistawis and Muskoka.

On one of these occasions,

He had got lost and,

After much wandering,

Had fallen in with Roaring Abel,

With his gun over his shoulder.

Dr.

Stalling had contrived to ask his question in about the most idiotic manner possible.

He said,

Can you tell me where I'm going?

How the devil should I know where you're going,

Gosling?

Retorted Abel contemptuously.

Dr.

Stalling was so enraged that he could not speak for a moment or two,

And in that moment,

Abel had disappeared in the woods.

Dr.

Stalling had eventually found his way home,

But he had never hankered to encounter Abel Gay again.

Nevertheless,

He came now to do his duty.

Valancy greeted him with a sinking heart.

She had to own to herself that she was terribly afraid of Dr.

Stalling still.

She had a miserable conviction that if he shook his long bony finger at her and told her to go home,

She dared not disobey.

Mr.

Gay,

Said Dr.

Stalling politely and condescendingly,

May I see Miss Stirling alone for a few minutes?

Roaring Abel was a little drunk,

Just drunk enough to be excessively polite and very cunning.

He had been on the point of going away when Dr.

Stalling arrived,

But now he sat down in a corner of the parlour and folded his arms.

No,

No,

Mr.

,

He said solemnly,

That wouldn't do,

Wouldn't do at all.

I've got the reputation of my household to keep up.

I've got to chaperone this young lady.

Can't have any sparking going on here behind my back.

Outraged,

Dr.

Stalling looked so terrible that Valancy wondered how Abel could endure his aspect,

But Abel was not worried at all.

Do you know anything about it,

Anyway,

He asked genially.

About what?

Sparking,

Said Abel coolly.

Poor Dr.

Stalling,

Who had never married because he believed in a celibate clergy,

Would not notice this ribald remark.

He turned his back on Abel and addressed himself to Valancy.

Miss Stirling,

I am here in response to your mother's wishes.

She begged me to come.

I am charged with some messages from her.

Will you,

He wagged his forefinger,

Will you hear them?

Yes,

Said Valancy,

Faintly eyeing the forefinger.

It had a hypnotic effect on her.

The first is this.

If you will leave this,

This house,

Interjected roaring Abel,

H-O-U-S-E,

Troubled with an impediment in your speech,

Ain't you,

Mister?

This place and return to your home,

Mr.

James Stirling will himself pay for a good nurse to come here and wait on Miss Gay.

Back of her terror,

Valancy smiled in secret.

Uncle James must indeed regard the matter as desperate when he would loosen his purse strings like that.

At any rate,

Her clan no longer despised her or ignored her.

She had become important to them.

That's my business,

Mister,

Said Abel.

Miss Stirling can go if she pleases or stay if she pleases.

I made a fair bargain with her and she's free to conclude it when she likes.

She gives me meals that stick to my ribs.

She don't forget to put salt in the porridge.

She never slams doors and when she has nothing to say,

She don't talk.

That's uncanny in a woman,

You know,

Mister.

I'm satisfied.

If she isn't,

She's free to go.

But no woman comes here in Jim Stirling's pay.

If anyone does,

Abel's voice was uncannily bland and polite,

I'll spatter the road with her brains.

Tell him that with a gay's compliments.

Dr.

Stirling,

A nurse is not what Sissy needs,

Said Valanci earnestly.

She isn't so ill as that yet.

What she wants is companionship.

Somebody she knows and likes just to live with her.

You can understand that,

I'm sure.

I understand that your motive is quite commendable.

Dr.

Stirling felt that he was very broad-minded indeed,

Especially as in his secret soul,

He did not believe Valanci's motive was commendable.

He hadn't the least idea what she was up to,

But he was sure her motive was not commendable.

When he could not understand a thing,

He straight away condemned it.

Simplicity itself.

But your first duty is to your mother.

She needs you.

She implores you to come home.

She will forgive everything if you will only come home.

That's a pretty little thought,

Remarked Abel meditatively as he ground some tobacco up in his hand.

Dr.

Stirling ignored him.

She entreats,

But I,

Miss Stirling,

Dr.

Stirling remembered that he was an ambassador of Jehovah.

I command as your pastor and spiritual guide,

I command you to come home with me this very day.

Get your hat and coat and come now.

Dr.

Stirling shook his finger at Valanci.

Before that pitiless finger,

She drooped and wilted visibly.

She's given in,

Thought roaring Abel.

She'll go with him.

Beats all the power these preacher fellows have over women.

Valanci was on the point of obeying Dr.

Stirling.

She must go home with him and give up.

She would lapse back to Doss Stirling again.

And for her few remaining days or weeks,

Be the cowed,

Futile creature she had always been.

It was her fate,

Typified by that relentless,

Uplifted forefinger.

She could no more escape from it than roaring Abel from his predestination.

She eyed it as the fascinated bird eyes the snake.

Another moment,

Fear is the original sin.

Suddenly,

Said a still,

Small voice,

A way back,

Back,

Back of Valanci's consciousness,

Almost all the evil in the world has its origin in the fact that someone is afraid of something.

Valanci stood up.

She was still in the clutches of fear,

But her soul was her own again.

She would not be false to that inner voice.

Dr.

Stirling,

She said slowly,

I do not at present owe any duty to my mother.

Mother.

She is quite well.

She has all the assistance and companionship she requires.

She does not need me at all.

I am needed here.

I am going to stay here.

There's spunk for you,

Said roaring Abel,

Admiringly.

Dr.

Stirling dropped his forefinger.

One could not keep on shaking a finger forever.

Miss Stirling,

Is there nothing that can influence that can influence you?

Do you remember your childhood days perfectly and hate them?

Do you realise what people will say,

What they are saying?

I can imagine it,

Said Valanci,

With a shrug of her shoulders.

She was suddenly free of fear again.

I haven't listened to the gossip of deerwood tea parties and sewing circles 20 years for nothing.

But,

Dr.

Stirling,

It doesn't matter in the least to me what they say.

Not in the least.

Dr.

Stirling went away then.

A girl who cared nothing for public opinion,

Over whom sacred family ties had no restraining influence,

Who hated her childhood memories.

Then cousin Georgiana came,

On her own initiative,

For nobody would have thought it worthwhile to send her.

She found Valanci alone,

Weeding the little vegetable garden she had planted,

And she made all the platitudinous pleas she could think of.

Valanci heard her patiently.

Cousin Georgiana wasn't such a bad old soul.

Then she said,

And now that you have got all that out of your system,

Cousin Georgiana,

Can you tell me how to make creamed codfish so that it will not be as thick as porridge and as salt as the Dead Sea?

We'll just have to wait,

Said Uncle Benjamin.

After all,

Sissy gay can't live long.

Dr.

Marsh tells me she may drop off any day.

Mrs.

Frederick wept.

It would really have been so much easier to bear if Valanci had died.

She could have worn mourning then.

Reviews

The further she gets from the Sterling’s, the better it gets! I wish that freedom for all that are trapped… thank you again for this excellent reading❤️🙏🏼