Wives and Widows; or, The Broken Life

by Ann S. Stephens

I turned again to go, but Lottie had, as usual, a few last words which must be spoken.

"See here, Miss Hyde," said she; "Babylon'll carry Mr. Lee off, I know, and Miss Jessie's got her heart so full that she'll slip away to her own room; so you must go and sit with Mrs. Lee."

"I will go to her room as soon as Mrs. Dennison leaves."

"That won't be long. She ain't going to coop herself up for nobody; trust her!"

"Very well; I shall be ready."

"And, Miss Hyde—"

"Well?"

"Now, don't be mad—I must say it! Just leave Babylon to me—you ain't no shakes where she is concerned; you'll only get yourself into a brile, and muddle matters—leave her to me!"

She gave her head a consequential toss and darted away, singing some dolorous ditty about "Long Ago."

I went up to my chamber, sad and sick at heart. Our little world seemed going very wrong; but how to remedy that which was amiss I could not tell. I was powerless, and could only remain quiet and let things take their course, praying that God would shield those so dear to me from sorrow and harm.