“Oh, it’s as true as can be; as true as the stars.”
“How do you know that the stars are true?”
“Why, they are always there, looking down on us, ain’t they? They never fail, unless there is a cloud comes between, and then their bright eyes are gone. Don’t you know that is true?”
“Perhaps it is.”
“And what I tell you is true, and when Ross comes you will know it.”
“What do you mean, Bessie?”
“I mean that Ross will come some time after the sun has gone to bed, and he will tell you all about love.”
“Hush, Bessie.”
“No, I will not hush, for I know he will come. Oh, but he will,” she said, pointing her finger at Blanche. “Now you are ashamed; you think it is foolish to love, but I can tell you it is beautiful; there is always a story goes with it, too, that you can’t help believing, and you just let Ross tell it to you and see if I did not tell you true.”