Her rush toward the door was intercepted by his quicker action. He seized both of her hands and would not let her pass.
"On the contrary, I never respected you before as I do this moment. You shall believe this, Molly Belle!"
Not a symptom of a "Miss"! And he the most punctilious of men in everything pertaining to polite address and chivalric reverence for women! His eyes had strange flashes in them when he turned to me. He was grave, but with a gravity that overlaid smiles. His voice was very gentle:—
"Molly, run away to play—there's a dear child!"
As I obeyed, I saw that he had not let go of Cousin Molly Belle's hands.
Chapter IX
My Pets
Like my games, my stockings, and my frocks, they were home-made. We had no caged birds. Our yards and woods thrilled with bird-song all day long for eight months of the year, and mocking-birds filled June and July nights with music sweeter and more varied than the storied strain of the nightingale. I had never seen a canary, and knew nothing of him except as I had read of one in what I called a "pair of verses" to which I took a fancy. I used to sing them to a tune of my own making when grown-uppers were not listening:—