“She’s a bad step-mother,” he answered. He went over to her, leaned down and gave her a resounding kiss. “But, you see, a Judge is likely to hear only of the bad ones.”
“Mr. Botts isn’t keeping his word,” reminded Miss Ruth.
“I know,” returned Uncle Bob. “He promised to put a stop to any more whipping. What do you think we ought to do?”
“Well,”—Miss Ruth hesitated—“of course, you may not agree, but I’ve been wondering if Manila wouldn’t like to leave home.”
“Suppose you ask her, Ruth.”
“Or if I might send her here to see you.”
“That’s a good idea. It’ll keep her away from the Court House, poor youngster.”
Miss Ruth made as if to go then. But “What do you think of our young lady?” he wanted to know.
“Just—just what I hoped she’d be like,” Miss Ruth answered, almost as if to herself. She held Phœbe away from her a little. “You will come sometimes to see me, Phœbe?”
“Oh, yes.”