Chapter 14

Hope's love of music became a passion after that night. Young Mr
Livingstone, 'the city chap' we had met at the church, came over
next day. His enthusiasm for her voice gave us all great hope of it.
David Brower said he would take her away to the big city when
she was older. They soon decided to send her in September to the
big school in Hillsborough.

'She's got t' be a lady,' said David Brower, as he drew her into his
lap the day we had all discussed the matter. 'She's learnt everything
in the 'rithinetic an' geography an' speller. I want her t' learn
somethin' more scientific.'

'Now you're talkin',' said Uncle Eb. 'There's lots o' things ye can't
learn by cipherin'. Nuthin's too good fer Hope.'

'I'd like t' know what you men expect of her anyway,' said
Elizabeth Brower.

'A high stepper,' said Uncle Eb. 'We want a slick coat, a kind uv a
toppy head, an a lot O' ginger. So't when we hitch 'er t' the pole
bime bye we shan't be 'shamed o' her.'

'Eggzac'ly,' said David Brower, laughing. 'An' then she shall have
the best harness in the market.'

Hope did not seem to comprehend all the rustic metaphors that had
been applied to her. A look of puzzled amusement came over her
face, and then she ran away into the garden, her hair streaming
from under her white sun-bonnet.

'Never see sech a beauty! Beats the world,' said Uncle Eb in a
whisper, whereat both David and Elizabeth shook their heads.

'Lord o' mercy! Don't let her know it,' Elizabeth answered, in a low
tone. 'She's beginning to have-'

Just then Hope came by us leading her pet filly that had been born
within the month. Immediately Mrs Brower changed the subject.

'To have what?' David enquired as soon as the girl was out of
hearing.

'Suspicions,' said Elizabeth mournfully. 'Spends a good deal of her
time at the looking-glass. I think the other girls tell her and then
that young Livingstone has been turning her head.'

'Turning her head!' he exclaimed.

'Turning her head,' she answered. 'He sat here the other day and
deliberately told her that he had never seen such a complexion and
such lovely hair.'

Elizabeth Brower mocked his accent with a show of contempt that
feebly echoed my own emotions.

'That's the way o' city folks, mother,' said David.

'It's a bad way,' she answered. 'I do not thank he ought to come
here. Hope's a child yet, and we mustn't let her get notions.'

'I'll tell him not t' come any more,' said David, as he and Uncle Eb
rose to go to their work.'

'I'm 'fraid she ought not to go away to school for a year yet,' said
Elizabeth, a troubled look in her face.

'Pshaw, mother! Ye can't keep her under yer wing alwus,'