Tess of the Storm Country

by Grace Miller White

CHAPTER XXVIII

Dusk had fallen over the lake, closing the shanty within the shadows of the weeping willows. Mother Moll had departed before sunset. Tessibel had four candles streaming their twinkling light upon the bare floor of the hut, and was busying herself at the stove. A voice from the bed faintly whispered:

"Did you tell Rebecca what I told you to? Tell me again what you said to her."

"I telled that ye was to stay to-night with a girl below the ragged rocks, and she didn't give a dum. She air only a workin' girl; she ain't yer own flesh and blood."

"And the baby, Tessibel? May I see my baby?"

"Nope, not to-night."

"Please, Tessibel! Please! Are his eyes grey, and has he dark hair on his head?"

"If ye don't shut up, I takes the brat to Ma Moll.... Now, then, drink this tea, and eat this bread. To-morry ye has to go home, ye know."

"But my baby, Tess! What shall I do about my baby?"