“Who lives there, Uncle Abe?”
The old family servant who had spent all his life in West Virginia, and knew every place for many miles around, answered promptly:
“Dat’s de ole Laurens place, honey. Fambly’s all in Yurrup now eddicating de darters and de sons. Mighty rich and proud, all dem Laurenses, missie. Come uv old English stock and ebry now an’ den some o’ dere kin dies ober de sea and leabes dem anoder fortin.”
“Oh,” said Molly, drawing a long breath, her piquant face glowing with eager interest.
She looked in something like awe at the beautiful home of these favorites of fortune.
“I wish I was one of ‘de darters’!” she said, quaintly.
“Hi, honey!” exclaimed old Uncle Abe, quite reproachfully. “Ole Mis’ Barry’s niece just as good as dem proud Laurenses.”
“Yes, Uncle Abe,” answered Molly, demurely, the mischievous golden brown lights dancing in her big, dark eyes, and her red lips dimpling with mirth at the old negro’s family pride.
Then she said, half-questioningly:
“But of course the Laurens family are too proud to notice any of their neighbors?”