“Humph! I rather think you will fly the very first time a young fellow sees you—a big girl in those ragged boy’s clothes.”
Then Adam thrilled anew with the sweetness, the wonder of her. His cold heart warmed to the core. How he would live in the hope and happiness and love that surely must be awaiting this girl! His mention of a young fellow suddenly rendered Genie amazed, shy, bewildered.
“But—but—Wanny—you—you won’t let any yo-young fellow see me this way!” she pleaded.
“How can I help it? You just wouldn’t sew and make dresses. Now you’re in for it. We’ll meet a lot of lads.... And, Genie, just the other day you didn’t care how I saw you.”
“Oh, but you’re different! You’re my dad, my brother, old Taquitch, and everything.”
“Thank you. That makes me feel a little better.”
Suddenly she turned her dark eyes upon him, piercing now and dilating with thought.
“Wanny! Are you sorry to leave?”
“Yes,” he replied, sadly.
“Then I’ll stay, if you want me—ever—always,” she said, very low. The golden flush paled on her cheek. She was a child, yet on the verge of womanhood.