"Very soon," he replied crisply; "that is, if ever I have money or
resolution enough to start."
"Won't you take me with you, little one?"
"No!"
"You don't love me any more!"
"Pish!"
"Kiss me, my boy!"
"Oh, go away, you bother me--you always bother me when my money is low.
Haven't I told you about it before?"
But the next morning as Suzette made her toilet, older and more
silently, he felt repentant, and called her to him, and they talked a
long while of nothingnesses. He had a cruel way of playing with her
feelings.
"Suzette," he would say, "would you like me to take you to my country
and live with you forever?"
"Very much, my child!"
"My father has a beautiful farm, which he means to give to me. There is
a grand old house upon it, and from the high porch you can see the blue
bay speckled with sails. The orchards are filled with apples and pears.
You must walk an hour to get around the corn-fields, and there is a
picnic ground in the beech-woods, where we might entertain our friends.
I have many friends. How jolly you would look in my big rocking-chair,
before the fireplace blazing with logs, and with your lap full of
chestnuts, telling me of Paris life!"
She was drinking it all in, and the blood was ripe in her cheeks.
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