"Stand still then, dear, and lean on the arm of my chair and not on me; you take my breath away,"
"Poor papa! Am I so big? As big as a sea lion?"
Not heeding her—more than half the time he heard her voice without heeding her words—he turned the sheets in his fingers, lifted them as if to read them and then dropped his hand.
"Jerrie, what have I told you about Uncle John who lives near the other ocean?"
Jerrie thought a moment: "That he is good and will love me dearly, and be ever so kind to me and teach me things?"
"And Prue, Aunt Prue; what do you know about her?"
"I know I have some of her name, not all, for her name is Pomeroy; and she is as beautiful as a queen and as good; and she will love me more than Uncle John will, and teach me how to be a lovely lady, too."
"Yes, that is all true; one of these letters is from her, written to you—"
"Oh, to me! to me."
"I will read it to you presently."