counting on Joe’s support at her side to meet these important strangers who were coming to visit.
At that moment, there was the sound of creaking wagon wheels and horses stopping out front, and John Shaw turned quickly to her. “Supposing you wait right here, my dear. I’ll meet the company at the door and bring them in to meet you shortly.”
“Yes, sir, Uncle John,” she agreed and he quickly left the room.
Mandie could hear women’s voices at the door,one sounded older and one quite young; there was also the soft speech of a black woman, and Aunt Lou was directing them inside with the baggage.
“John Shaw, you could give a person more time to get things together for such a trip,” the younger voice was teasingly greeting Mandie’s uncle.
“My, yes, you’d think someone was dying, instead of it being a party we are coming to,” agreed the older woman.
“Well, I think you’ll find the party well worth your sudden trip. Come on in here to the parlor. I want you to meet my other guest,” John Shaw was saying.
“Really, John, we should freshen up a bit first,” the younger woman was hesitating.
“Nonsense, you never looked lovelier. Come on,” he insisted.
John Shaw appeared at the doorway to the parlor, accompanied by the most beautiful young woman Mandie had ever seen. She was dressed in rich silks, with diamonds sparkling on her fingers, and the scent of perfume came with her into the room. She had piles of shining golden hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a complexion that looked as though it had never been exposed to the sun’s rays.
Mandie could hardly take her eyes off the younger woman, but snatched a look at the heavy-set, bustling matron, also dressed in the finest and most fashionable clothes Mandie had ever seen.
John Shaw hesitated. “Amanda, this isElizabeth—you read about her in my letter to your father that night—”
The young girl was overwhelmed. So, this was the woman who had loved her father. She rushed forward to take her dainty hand. Elizabeth kept staring at Mandie and the older woman caught her breath and stood as if frozen to the spot.
Elizabeth was quite flustered as she turned to John Shaw. “John, who is this girl?”
John Shaw put one arm around Elizabeth and the other around Mandie.
“Elizabeth, this is your daughter, Amanda Elizabeth—”
The young woman trembled violently and John led her to a sofa to sit down, while Mandie, not quite comprehending the situation, trailed along, still holding onto her hand.
“Sorry it had to be such a shock, but I only found out the truth myself just a few months ago,” John told her.
The older woman had finally found her voice. “John Shaw, just what kind of trick are you playing?”
“It’s no trick, Mrs. Taft. You, of all people, know that. You knew that Elizabeth’s baby didn’t—”
John was interrupted by Mandie’s urgent tugging at his coat. “Uncle John, what—who—”
Elizabeth and Mandie were staring at each other, speechless.
“John, it can’t be! You know my baby died,” Elizabeth kept repeating. Then she turned to Mandie,“Do you know your birthdate, child?”
“Oh, yes, I was born June 6, 1888,” Mandie managed to say.
“Your baby did not die, Elizabeth. This is your baby—grown to a full twelve years old, never knowing who her real mother was,” John was telling the young woman.
“John Shaw, you are only making trouble, you know that,” Mrs. Taft was warning him as she sank into a deep chair.
“Uncle John, please—” Mandie begged.
“Yes, my child, this
is
your real mother, and this dear woman is you real grandmother,” John finally turned to Mandie.
“It is quite a long story. Your mother, Elizabeth Taft, ran away and married your father thirteen years ago, but her parents opposed the marriage because your father was half Indian. Your father had lived here with me before that. Elizabeth’s parents managed to have the marriage annulled and moved to Asheville to get
At that moment, there was the sound of creaking wagon wheels and horses stopping out front, and John Shaw turned quickly to her. “Supposing you wait right here, my dear. I’ll meet the company at the door and bring them in to meet you shortly.”
“Yes, sir, Uncle John,” she agreed and he quickly left the room.
Mandie could hear women’s voices at the door,one sounded older and one quite young; there was also the soft speech of a black woman, and Aunt Lou was directing them inside with the baggage.
“John Shaw, you could give a person more time to get things together for such a trip,” the younger voice was teasingly greeting Mandie’s uncle.
“My, yes, you’d think someone was dying, instead of it being a party we are coming to,” agreed the older woman.
“Well, I think you’ll find the party well worth your sudden trip. Come on in here to the parlor. I want you to meet my other guest,” John Shaw was saying.
“Really, John, we should freshen up a bit first,” the younger woman was hesitating.
“Nonsense, you never looked lovelier. Come on,” he insisted.
John Shaw appeared at the doorway to the parlor, accompanied by the most beautiful young woman Mandie had ever seen. She was dressed in rich silks, with diamonds sparkling on her fingers, and the scent of perfume came with her into the room. She had piles of shining golden hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a complexion that looked as though it had never been exposed to the sun’s rays.
Mandie could hardly take her eyes off the younger woman, but snatched a look at the heavy-set, bustling matron, also dressed in the finest and most fashionable clothes Mandie had ever seen.
John Shaw hesitated. “Amanda, this isElizabeth—you read about her in my letter to your father that night—”
The young girl was overwhelmed. So, this was the woman who had loved her father. She rushed forward to take her dainty hand. Elizabeth kept staring at Mandie and the older woman caught her breath and stood as if frozen to the spot.
Elizabeth was quite flustered as she turned to John Shaw. “John, who is this girl?”
John Shaw put one arm around Elizabeth and the other around Mandie.
“Elizabeth, this is your daughter, Amanda Elizabeth—”
The young woman trembled violently and John led her to a sofa to sit down, while Mandie, not quite comprehending the situation, trailed along, still holding onto her hand.
“Sorry it had to be such a shock, but I only found out the truth myself just a few months ago,” John told her.
The older woman had finally found her voice. “John Shaw, just what kind of trick are you playing?”
“It’s no trick, Mrs. Taft. You, of all people, know that. You knew that Elizabeth’s baby didn’t—”
John was interrupted by Mandie’s urgent tugging at his coat. “Uncle John, what—who—”
Elizabeth and Mandie were staring at each other, speechless.
“John, it can’t be! You know my baby died,” Elizabeth kept repeating. Then she turned to Mandie,“Do you know your birthdate, child?”
“Oh, yes, I was born June 6, 1888,” Mandie managed to say.
“Your baby did not die, Elizabeth. This is your baby—grown to a full twelve years old, never knowing who her real mother was,” John was telling the young woman.
“John Shaw, you are only making trouble, you know that,” Mrs. Taft was warning him as she sank into a deep chair.
“Uncle John, please—” Mandie begged.
“Yes, my child, this
is
your real mother, and this dear woman is you real grandmother,” John finally turned to Mandie.
“It is quite a long story. Your mother, Elizabeth Taft, ran away and married your father thirteen years ago, but her parents opposed the marriage because your father was half Indian. Your father had lived here with me before that. Elizabeth’s parents managed to have the marriage annulled and moved to Asheville to get
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