“Like 'em enough to—to live with 'em a winter?”
“Live with them a winter!”
“C-Cynthy, I want you should stay in Boston this winter and go to a young ladies' school.”
It was out. He had said it, though he never quite knew where he had found the courage.
“Uncle Jethro!” she cried. She could only look at him in dismay, but the tears came into her eyes and sparkled.
“You—you'll be happy here, Cynthy. It'll be a change for you. And I shan't be so lonesome as you'd think. I'll—I'll be busy this winter, Cynthy.”
“You know that I wouldn't leave you, Uncle Jethro,” she said reproachfully. “I should be lonesome, if you wouldn't. You would be lonesome—you know you would be.”
“You'll do this for me, Cynthy. S-said you would, didn't you—said you would?”
“Why do you want me to do this?”
“W-want you to go to school for a winter, Cynthy. Shouldn't think I'd done right by you if I didn't.”