"Poor man, he has so few pleasures I'm sure I needn't grudge him
such a small one as looking at and listening to me if he likes it,"
she said to herself one day, as she was preparing for her daily
stroll with unusual care. "But how will it end? If he only wants a
mild flirtation he is welcome to it; but if he really cares for me,
I must make up my mind about it, and not deceive him. I don't
believe he loves me: how can he? such an insignificant creature as I
am."
Here she looked in the glass, and as she looked the color deepened
in her cheek, her eyes shone, and a smile would sit upon her lips,
for the reflection showed her a very winning face under the
coquettish hat put on to captivate.
"Don't be foolish, Christie! Mind what you do, and be sure vanity
doesn't delude you, for you are only a woman, and in tilings of this
sort we are so blind and silly. I'll think of this possibility
soberly, but I won't flirt, and then which ever way I decide I shall
have nothing to reproach myself with."
Armed with this virtuous resolution, Christie sternly replaced the
pretty hat with her old brown one, fastened up a becoming curl,
which of late she had worn behind her ear, and put on a pair of
stout, rusty boots, much fitter for rocks and sand than the smart
slippers she was preparing to sacrifice.
Pages:
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96