Peter would have the impulse to say to her: "Oh,
drop all that preaching, and give yourself a rest! Let's you and me
enjoy life a bit."
Yes, it would be all he could do to keep from saying this--despite
the fact that he knew it would ruin everything. Once little Jennie
appeared in a new silk dress, brought to her by one of the rich
ladies whose heart was touched by her dowdy appearance. It was of
soft grey silk--cheap silk, but fresh and new, and Peter had never
had anything so fine in his arms before. It matched Jennie's grey
eyes, and its freshness gave her a pink glow; or was it that Peter
admired her, and loved her more, and so brought the blood to her
cheeks? Peter had an impulse to take her out and show her off, and
he pressed his face into the soft folds of the dress and whispered,
"Say kid, some day you an me got to cut all this hard luck business
for a bit!"
He felt little Jennie stiffen, and draw away from him; so quickly he
had to set to work to patch up the damage. "I want you to get well,"
he pleaded. "You're so good to everybody--you treat everybody well
but yourself!"
It had been something in his tone rather than his actual words that
had frightened the girl. "Oh Peter!" she cried.
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