But Maggie wuz aroused; there wuz a pink spot on both cheeks when I told her about it.
She wuz settin’ in her pretty room, and near her lay Boy asleep on some cushions on the sofa. She wuz readin’ a love letter from Thomas Jefferson, for he wuz away for a few days, and his letters to her wuz always love letters.
There she sot in her safe and happy love-guarded home, by the side of Boy, whom she held clost in her heart because he wuz the image of her lover husband, Thomas J. Allen.
There she sot in her pretty white dress, with her pure, happy face—the flower, so I told myself as I looked at her, of long years of culture and refinement, and I couldn’t help comparin’ her in my mind with the ignorant and onthinkin’ soul that another boy had been give to.
But I told Maggie, for I thought I had ought to, and her eyes grew darker, and a red spot shone on both cheeks; and sez she the first thing:
“Dan must marry her at once.”
Sez I, “Mebby he won’t.”
“Why, he must,” sez Maggie; “it is right that he should; I shall make him.”
“Wall,” sez I, “you must do what you think is right. I am fairly dumbfounded, and don’t know what to do,” sez I.
Maggie got up sort o’ quick and rung the bell, and asked to have Dan sent up to her room.