He paused in suspense. He expected Betty to give a cruel little laugh
and make some satirical speech about his newly-fledged philanthropy. But
Betty could always be depended on for the unexpected.
Her eyes softened. She gave him a look that gladdened him and said in a
low tone, as she bent forward and gently pushed back the moist, sandy
locks from Sarah Maud’s flushed face.
“I think it was lovely of you.”
Her touch, or the jerk of the train as it came to a standstill at the
water-tank, wakened Sarah Maud. She lifted her head, rather dazed by the
lights and strangers around her, and found herself looking into the face
of the very prettiest young lady she had ever seen.
Sarah Maud sat upon Nesbitt’s knee, pointed a brown finger at Betty and
said sleepily but in a voice whose awful distinctness was heard to the
farthest end of the car.
“Are _you_ his girl?”
Nesbitt gasped and looked for the end of all things. At that awful
moment he wished he had never seen Sarah Maud.
But Betty smiled again and said in a voice, low but equally distinct.
“Yes, dear, I am.”
TRANSCRIBER NOTES
Mis-spelled words and printer errors have been fixed.
[The end of _By the Grace of Sarah Maud_ by L. M. (Lucy Maud)
Montgomery]
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