Westerfelt, was that what you've been
thinking all this time?"
A great joy had illuminated his face, and he grasped her hands and
clung to them.
"Harriet, I see it all now; can you ever forgive me?"
She did not answer, but hearing her mother's step in the hall she
called out, while she tightened her little fingers over his, "Mother,
come in here; come quick!"
"What is it, darling?" asked the old woman, anxiously, as she entered
the room.
"Oh, mother, he thought I was Hettie; he thought I loved Toot Wambush;
he says he doesn't care about the other thing one bit."
"Well, I didn't see how he could," said Mrs. Floyd. "I didn't, really."
"She hasn't said she will forgive me for thinking she was in love with
Wambush, and making such a fool of myself on account of the mistake,"
said Westerfelt. "I wish you'd help me out, Mrs. Floyd."
"I may not forgive you for thinking I could love such a man," answered
Harriet, "but I don't blame you a bit for the way you acted. I reckon
that was just jealousy, and that showed he cared for me; don't you
think so, mother?"
"Yes, daughter, I always have believed that Mr.
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