Her love for the family, especially Miss Prue, almost the only survivor of this especial branch, was simply unbounded; and nothing could have tempted her to leave the latter.
Even as she made the simple announcement, her great, soft black eyes rested lovingly on her friend and mistress, then turned, with a smiling welcome, upon the children.
"I'll tend the baby ef he wakes, Miss Sairay; let me lay him down now," she said, lifting him with her powerful black hands; "he likes his old Aunt Hester!" and she nestled him against her broad bosom, and bent her stately white-turbaned head caressingly over him.
Molly, who was always fascinated by her, watched every movement, her eyes dancing, and her checks dimpling with some inner thought.
"Come, what are you sparkling over now?" cried Miss Prue, taking the child's hand to lead her to the dining-room. "I know you've an idea in that little brain of yours, because it's almost ready to jump out of your eye-windows!" Molly gave a little hop—she seldom walked—and caught the aged hand in both of hers. "I'll tell you, Miss Plunkett, but you musn't tell anybody, will you?"
"I'll try to keep it a secret, Molly."
"Well, what do you s'pose Hester looks like?"
"Now, Molly! You wouldn't make fun of good old Hester, would you?"
"But I'm not making fun, Miss Prue, indeed and indeedy I'm not, only she does!"
"Well, like what, Molly?"