For the next two years, Ann's position in the family grew to be more
and more that of a daughter. If it had not been for the indentures
lying serenely in that tall wooden desk, she would almost have
forgotten, herself, that she was a bound girl.
One spring afternoon, when Ann was about sixteen years old, her
mistress called her solemnly into the fore-room. "Ann," said she,
"come here, I want to speak to you."
Nabby stared wonderingly; and Ann, as she obeyed, felt awed. There
was something unusual in her mistress's tone.
Standing there in the fore-room, in the august company of the best
bed, with its high posts and flowered-chintz curtains, the best chest
of drawers, and the best chairs, Ann listened to what Mrs. Polly had
to tell her. It was a plan which almost took her breath away; for it
was this: Mrs. Polly proposed to adopt her, and change her name to
Wales. She would be no longer Ann Ginnins, and a bound girl; but Ann
Wales, and a daughter in her mother's home.
Ann dropped into one of the best chairs, and sat there, her little
dark face very pale.
Pages:
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59