"I
was just thinking how nice it would be to have them." She was silent
a moment, then added: "I think if I had some white fox furs I'd be
the happiest person in the world."
"That doesn't strike me as such a large order for complete
happiness," observed father, smiling at her.
Missy smiled back at him. In another these words might have savoured
of irony, but Missy feared irony from her father less than from any
other old person.
Father was a big, silent man but he was always kind and particularly
lovable; and he "understood" better than most "old people."
"What is the special merit of these white fox furs?" he went on, and
something in the indulgent quality of his tone, something in the
expression of his eyes, made hope stir timidly to birth in her bosom
and rise to shine from her eyes.
But before she could answer, mother spoke. "I can tell you that.
That flighty Hicks girl went by here this afternoon wearing some.
That Summers boy who clerks in Pieker's grocery was with her. He
once wanted Missy to go walking with him and I had to put my foot
down. She doesn't seem to realize she's too young for such things.
Pages:
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233