"I hear the wind now when I think of it," she said.
"The child is an orphan," the doctor continued, turning to his friend.
"Her mother was a young Irish woman, who came here looking for work.
She was poor, her husband dead, consumption on her, and so on, and so
on. She died at the poorhouse, and left this blind baby. Tell Dr.
Anthony how it happened, Vesta."
Miss Vesta frowned and blushed. She wished Doctor would remember that
his friend was a stranger to her. But in a moment she raised her head.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of, after all," she said, a little
proudly. "I don't know why I should not tell you, sir. I went up to
the poor-farm one evening, to carry a basket of strawberries. We had a
great quantity, and I thought some of the people up there might like
them, for they had few luxuries, though I don't believe they ever went
hungry. And when I came there, Mrs. Green, who kept the farm then,
came out looking all in a maze. 'Did you ever hear of such a thing in
your life?' she cried out, the minute she set eyes on me. 'I don't
know, I'm sure,' said I. 'Perhaps I did, and perhaps I didn't. How's
the baby that poor soul left?' I said. It was two weeks since the
mother died; and to tell the truth, I went up about as much to see how
the child was getting on as to take the strawberries, though I don't
know that I realized it till this very minute.
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