"You see--when I gave the letter to Bill Trim, I--I told him--I had
to--that it was Miss Lois Ann's, so he didn't think it mattered to me;
but when he was dying--he was hurt on the big road they are making in
the hills--he was brought to us-all, and Miss Lois Ann and I took care
of him, and he grew right sorry for hating her and not telling about the
letter--and then--he spoke it out!"
"I see. I see. And that was--how long ago--that you wrote the letter?"
Nella-Rose looked back over the weary way she had travelled, to this
moment in the warm, sun-filled room.
"It was befo' lil' Ann came that I sent the letter," she faltered.
"Little Ann?" Lynda repeated the name and something terrible rose within
her--something that would kill her unless she conquered it. So she asked
quickly, desperately:
"Your--your child? I see. Go on--Nella-Rose."
"I wrote the letter and--sent it. I was hid in Miss Lois Ann's cabin--it
was winter--and no one found out! Miss Lois Ann wouldn't believe what I
told; she said when him and me was married under the trees and God
understood, it didn't make me--right! She--helped me, but she
hated--him! And then when he--didn't come, she taught me to--to hate,
and it was right _black_ hate until lil' Ann came. When God let her down
to me--He took the hate away."
Lynda was blinded by her tears.
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