Poor Mr. Carter had a very good appetite and
I don't know why I should have felt that I had to eat so much every day
to keep him company; I wasn't always so considerate of him. Then he
didn't want me to dance any more because married women oughtn't, or ride
horseback either--no amusement left but himself and weekly
prayer-meetings, and--and--I just couldn't help the tears coming and
dripping as I thought about it all and that awful waist measure in
inches.
"Stop crying this minute, Molly," said Doctor John suddenly in the deep
voice he uses to Billy and me when we are really sick or stump-toed.
"You know I was only teasing you and I won't stand for--"
But I sobbed some more. I like him when his eyes come out from under his
bushy brows and are all tender and full of sorry for us.
"I can't help it," I gulped in my sleeve. "I did used to like Alfred
Bennett. My heart almost broke when he went away. I used to be beautiful
and slim, and now I feel as if my own fat ghost has come to haunt me all
my life. I am so ashamed! If a woman can't cry over her own dead beauty,
what can she cry over?" By this time I was really crying.
Then what happened to me was that Doctor John took me by the shoulders
and gave me one good shake and then made me look him right in the eyes
through the tears and all.
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