'"
"O Aunt Rachel," I cried, all my desire of Phoebe breaking but into
tenderness. I looked at the lovely face, crossed with sunlight, full of
such quick intelligence, such mischievousness....
You can catch a wild animal in a trap, but to whip it would be sacrilege
... that might do for domesticated animals.
"Josh never laid a hand on her, though, that night ... she never came
home ... men are so awful in their pride, Johnnie ... don't you be like
that when you grow to be a man...."
Then Aunt Rachel said no more, as Paul came in at that moment. Nor did
she resume the subject.
* * * * *
Next morning I packed away to visit Uncle Lan. I might as well go, even
if I hated him. It would be too noticeable, not to go.
He was at the train, waiting for me. He proffered me his hand. To my
surprise, I took it. He seized my grip from me, put his other hand
affectionately on my shoulder.
"I've often wondered whether you'd ever forgive me for the way I beat
you.... I've learned better since."
Before I knew it my voice played me the trick of saying yes, I forgave
him.
"That's a good boy!" and Lan gave my hand such a squeeze that it almost
made me cry out with the pain of it.
* * * * *
"Lan," as we walked along, "can you tell me more about Phoebe.... Aunt
Rachel told me some, but--"
"Oh, she ended up by running away with a drummer .
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