“Law! Missy Blanche, why you ’peak so? You too young tink ’bout dat!”
“Too young! How old should one be?”
“Well. Dey do say it ’pend berry much on the nater ob de climate. In dem Wess Indy Island wha it ar hot, dey fall into de affecshun sooner dan hya in Englan’. I know lots ob young Badian girl get married ’fore dey am fo’teen, an’ dey falls in lub sooner dan dat.”
“But I’m fifteen this day. You know it’s my birthday?”
“Ob coas I know dat. Fifteen too young for English girl; ’pecially a lady like you, Missy Blanche.”
“You must remember I lived three years in the West Indies.”
“No matter ’bout dat. It no diffrence make in ’spect ob de rule. In Englan’ you only chile yet.”
“Only a child! Nonsense, Sabby! See how tall I am! That little bed’s become quite too short for me. My toes touch the bottom of it every night. I must have it changed for a bigger one; I must.”
“Don’t signify ’bout you length.”
“Well, I’m sure I’m stout enough. And such a weight! Papa had me weighed the other day at the railway station. Seven stone six pounds—over a hundred pounds. Think of that, Sabby!”