Lawson married her at the first stopping place over the ridge. He ain't
worthy o' my lil' Nella-Rose--but us-all has got to make the best o'
it. Come spring--she'll be back, and then--I'll forgive her--my lil'
Nella-Rose!"
From the intensity of his emotions Greyson trembled and the weak tears
ran down his lined face. Taking advantage of the tense moment Truedale
asked desperately:
"Will you show me that letter, Mr. Greyson?"
So direct was the request, so apparently natural to the old man's
unguarded suffering, that it drove superficialities before it and merely
confirmed Greyson in his determination to save Nella-Rose's reputation
at any cost. Ignoring the unwarrantable curiosity, alert to the
necessity of quick defense, he said:
"I can't. I wish to Gawd I could and then I could stop any tongue what
dares to tech my lil' gal's name."
"Why can you not show me the letter?" Truedale was towering above the
old man. By some unknown power he had got control of the situation. "I
have a reason for--asking this, Mr. Greyson."
"Marg burned it! It was allus Marg or lil' Nella-Rose for Lawson, and
Nella-Rose got him! When Marg knew this fur certain, there was no length
to which she--didn't go! This is my home, sir; I'm old--Marg is a good
girl and the trouble is past now; her and Jed is making me comfortable,
but we-all don't mention Nella-Rose.
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