Chapter 2

"There's a new clerk in the drug-store,--I see him through the window when I was comin' home to-day. He looked to be a nice kind o' man, but I can't help feelin' 't it 'd be kind o' awkward to go up to him 'n' have to begin by askin' him what my name 'd be 'f I married him. Maybe there's them 's could do such a thing, but I 've never had nothin' about me 's 'd lead me to throw myself at the head o' any man, 'n' it's too late in the day f'r me to start in now."

Mrs. Lathrop again attempted to get in a word and was again unsuccessful.

"I don't believe 't there's another free man in the town. I've thought 'n' thought 'n' I can't think o' one." She stopped and sighed.

"There's Jathrop!" said Mrs. Lathrop, with sudden and complete success. Jathrop was her son, so baptized through a fearful slip of the tongue at a critical moment. He was meant to have been John.

Miss Clegg gave such a start that she dropped her fan over the fence.

"Well, Heaven forgive me!" she cried,--"'n' me 't never thought of him once, 'n' him so handy right on the other side of the fence! Did I ever!"

"He ain't thir--" said Mrs. Lathrop, picking up the fan.

"I don't care. What's twelve years or so when it's the woman 's 'as got the property? Well, Mrs. Lathrop, I certainly _am_ obliged to you for mentionin' him, for I don't believe he ever would 'a' occurred to me in kingdom come. 'N' here I've been worryin' my head off ever since supper-time 'n' all for suthin' 's close 's Jathrop Lathrop. But I had good cause to worry, 'n' now 't it's over I don't mind mentionin' the reason 'n' tellin' you frank 'n' plain 't I'd begun on my things. I cut out a pink nightgown last night, a real fussy one, 'n' I felt sick all over 't the thought 't perhaps I'd wasted all that cloth. There wasn't nothin' foolish about cuttin' out the nightgown, for I'd made up my mind 't if it looked too awful fancy on 't I'd just put it away for the oldest girl when she gets married, but o' course 'f I can't get a husband stands to reason there'll be no oldest girl, 'n' all that ten cent gingham 't Shores is sellin' off't five 'd be a dead waste o' good stuff."

Mrs. Lathrop chewed her clover.

"Do you suppose there'll be any trouble with Jathrop? Do you suppose it'll matter any to him which side o' the fence he lives on?"

Mrs. Lathrop shook her head slowly.

"I sh'd think he ought to be only too pleased to marry me 'f I want him to, all the days 't I tended him when he was a baby! My, but he _was_ a cute little fellow! Everybody was lookin' for him to grow up a real credit to you _then_. Well, 's far 's that goes, it's a ill wind 't blows no good, 'n' no one c'n deny 't he's been easy for you to manage, 'n' what's sauce f'r the goose is sauce f'r the gander, so I sh'll look to be equally lucky."

Mrs. Lathrop looked proud and pleased.

"Why can't you ask him to-night 'n' let me know the first thing in the mornin'? That'll save me havin' to come 'way aroun' by the gate, you know."

Mrs. Lathrop assented to the obvious good sense of this proposition with one emphatic nod of her head.

"'N' I'll come out jus' 's quick 's I can in the mornin' 'n' hear what he said; I'll come 's soon 's ever I can get father 'n' the dishes washed up. I hope to Heaven father'll sleep more this night 'n he did last. He was awful restless last night. He kept callin' f'r things till finally I had to take a pillow and go down on the dinin'-room lounge to keep from bein' woke up any more."

"Do you think he's--"

"No, I don't think he's worse; not 'nless wakin' up 'n' askin' f'r things jus' to be aggravatin' is worse. If it is, then he is too. But, lor, there ain't no manner o' use in talkin' o' father! A watched pot _never_ boils! Jathrop's more to the point right now."

Upon this hint Mrs. Lathrop de-fenced herself, so to speak, and the friendly chat ended for that time.

The morning after, Miss Clegg was slow to appear at the summons of her neighbor. When she did approach the spot where the other stood waiting, her whole face and figure bore a weary and fretful air.

"Father jus' about kept me up this whole blessed night," she began as soon as she was within easy hearing. "I d'n' know what I want to get married f'r, when I'm bound to be man-free in twenty-five years 'f I c'n jus' make out to live that long."

Mrs. Lathrop chewed and listened.

"If there was anythin' in the house 't father didn't ask f'r 'n' 't I didn't get him last night, it must 'a' been the cook-stove in the kitchen. I come nigh to losin' a toe in the rat-trap the third time I was down cellar, 'n' I clum that ladder to the garret so many times 't I do believe I dusted all overhead with my hair afore mornin'. My ears is full o' cobwebs too, 'n' you know 's well 's I do 't I never was one to fancy cobwebs about me. They say 't every cloud has a silver linin', but I can't see no silver linin' to a night like last night. When the rooster crowed f'r the first time this mornin', I had it in my heart to march right out there 'n' hack off his head. If it 'd 'a' been Saturday, I'd 'a' done 't too, 'n' relished him good at Sunday dinner!"

Miss Clegg paused and compressed her lips firmly for a few seconds; then she gave herself a little shake and descended to the main question of the day.

"Well, what did Jathrop say?"

Mrs. Lathrop looked very uncomfortable indeed, and in lieu of an answer swallowed her clover.

"You asked him, didn't you?"

"Yes, I--"

"Well, what 'd he say?"

"He ain't very--"

"My soul 'n' body! What reason did he give?"

"He's afraid your father's livin' on a annu--"

"Well, he ain't." Susan's tone was more than a little displeased. "Whatever else father may 'a' done, he never played no annuity tricks. He 's livin' on his own property, 'n' I'll take it very kindly o' you, Mrs. Lathrop, to make that piece o' news clear to your son. My father's got bank-stock, 'n' he owns them two cottages across the bridge, 'n' the blacksmith-shop belongs to him too. There! I declare I never thought o' the blacksmith,--his wife died last winter."

"Jathrop asked me what I th--"

"Well, what 'd you tell him?"

"I said 't if your father was some older--"

Miss Clegg's eyebrows moved understandingly.

"How long is it since you've seen father?" she asked without waiting for the other to end her sentence.

"Not since your mother died, I guess; I was--"

"I wish you c'd come over 'n' take a look at him now 'n' tell me your opinion. Why can't you?"

Mrs. Lathrop reflected.

"I don't see why I can't. I'll go in 'n' take off--"

"All right, 'n' when you've got it off, come right over 'n' you'll find me in the kitchen waitin' for you."

Mrs. Lathrop returned to her own house to shed her apron and wash her hands, and then sallied over to view Mr. Clegg. The two friends mounted the stair together, and entered the old man's room.

It was a scrupulously clean and bright and orderly room, and the invalid in the big white bed bore evidence to the care and attention so dutifully lavished on him. He was a very wizened little old man, and his features had been crossed and recrossed by the finger of Time until their original characteristics were nearly obliterated. The expression upon his face resembled nothing so much as a sketch which has been done over so many times that its first design is altogether lost, and if there was any answer to the riddle, it was not the mental perception of Mrs. Lathrop that was about to seize upon it.

Instead, that kindly visitor stood lost in a species of helpless contemplation, until at last a motion of Susan's, directed towards the ordering of an unsightly fold in the wide smoothness of the counterpane, led to her bending herself to do a similar kindness upon her side of the bed. The action resulted in a slight change in her expression which Susan's watchfulness at once perceived.

"Was it a needle?" she asked quickly. "Sometimes I stick 'em in while I'm sewin'. You see, his havin' been paralyzed so many years has got me where I'm awful careless about leavin' needles in his bed."

"No," said Mrs. Lathrop; "it wasn't a--"

"Come on downstairs again," said the hostess; "we c'n talk there."

They went down into the kitchen, and there Mrs. Lathrop seated herself and coughed solemnly.

"What is it, anyhow?" the younger woman demanded.

Mrs. Lathrop coughed again.

"Susan, did I feel a feather--"

"Yes," said Susan, in great surprise; "he likes one."

"I sh'd think it was too hot this--"

"He don't never complain o' the heat, 'n' he hates the chill o' rainy days."

Mrs. Lathrop coughed again.

Miss Clegg's interest bordered on impatience.

"Now, Susan, I ain't sayin' as it's noways true, but I _have_ heard as there's them 's can't die on--"

"On feathers?" cried the daughter.

"Yes; they say they hold the life right in 'n'--"

Miss Clegg's eyes opened widely.

"But I couldn't take it away from him, anyhow," she said, with a species of determined resignation in her voice. "I'd have to wait 'till he wanted it took."

Mrs. Lathrop was silent. Then she rose to go. Susan rose too. They went out the kitchen door together, and down the steps. There they paused to part.

"Do you believe 't it 'd be any use me thinkin' o' Jathrop any more?" the maiden asked the matron.

"I believe I'd try the blacksmith if I was you; he looks mighty nice Sundays."

Miss Clegg sighed heavily and turned to re-enter the house.

Mrs. Lathrop went "round by the gate" and became again an inmate of her own kitchen. There the thought occurred to her that it was an excellent morning to clean the high-shelf over the sink. For years past whenever she had had occasion to put anything up there, showers of dust and rolls of lint had come tumbling down upon her head. Under such circumstances it was but natural that a determination to some day clean the shelf should have slowly but surely been developed. Accordingly she climbed up on the edge of the sink and undertook the initiatory proceedings. The lowest stratum of dirt was found to rest upon a newspaper containing an account of one day of Guiteau's trial. Upon the discovery of the paper Mrs. Lathrop suddenly abandoned her original plan, got down from the sink, ensconced herself in her kitchen rocker, and plunged into bliss forthwith.

An hour passed pleasantly and placidly by. Bees buzzed outside the window, the kettle sizzled sweetly on the stove, the newspaper rustled less and less, Mrs. Lathrop's head sank sideways, and the calm of perfect peace reigned in her immediate vicinity.

This state of things endured not long.

Its gentle Paradise was suddenly broken in upon and rent apart by a succession of the most piercing shrieks that ever originated in the throat of a human being. Mrs. Lathrop came to herself with a violent start, sprang to her feet, ran to the door, and then stood still, completely dazed and at first unable to discern from which direction the ear-splitting screams proceeded. Then, in a second, her senses returned to her, and she ran as fast as she could to the fence. As she approached the boundary, she saw Susan standing in one of her upstairs windows and yelling at the top of her voice. Mrs. Lathrop paused for no conventionalities of civilization. She hoisted herself over the fence in a fashion worthy a man or a monkey, ran across the Clegg yard, entered the kitchen door, stumbled breathlessly up the dark back stairs, and gasped, grabbing Susan hard by the elbow,--

"What _is_ it, for pity's--"

Susan was all colors and shaking as if with the ague.

"You never told me 's it 'd work so quick," she cried out.

"What would--"

"The feathers!"

"Whose feathers?"

"Father's feathers."

"Lord have mercy, Susan, you don't mean--"

"Yes, I do."

"He ain't never--"

"Yes, he is."

Mrs. Lathrop stood stricken.

Susan wiped her eyes with her apron and choked.

After a while the older woman spoke feebly.

"What did hap--"

Miss Clegg cut the question off in its prime.

"I don't know as I c'n ever tell you; it's too awful even to think of."

"But you--"

"I know, 'n' I'm goin' to. But I tell you once for all, Mrs. Lathrop, 't this'll be a lesson to me forever after 's to takin' the say-so o' other folks unto myself. 'N' I didn't really consider 't I was doin' so this time, f'r if I had, Lord knows I'd 'a' landed three beds atop o' him afore I'd 'a' ever--" She stopped and shook convulsively.

"Go on," said Mrs. Lathrop, her curiosity getting the better of her sympathy, and her impatience ranking both.

Susan ceased sobbing, and essayed explanation.

"You see, after you was gone, he said 't he _was_ pretty hot these last nights, 'n' 't that was maybe what kept him so awfully awake. I asked him if--if--maybe the feather-bed 'n'--well, Mrs. Lathrop, to put the whole in a nut-shell, we settled to move him, 'n' I moved him. I know I didn't hurt him one bit, for I'm 's handy with--at least, I _was_'s handy with him 's I am with a broom. 'N' I laid him on the lounge, 'n' dumped that bed out into the back hall. I thought I 'd sun it 'n' put it away this afternoon, f'r _you_ know 's I'm never no hand to leave nothin' lyin' aroun'. Well, I come back 'n' got out some fresh sheets, 'n' jus' 's I was--"

The speaker halted, and there was a dramatic pause.

"Where is--" Mrs. Lathrop asked at last.

"Back in the feathers. My heaven alive! When I see what I'd done, I was that upset 't I just run 's quick 's ever I could, 'n' got the bed, 'n' dumped it right atop of him!"

There was another dramatic silence, finally broken by Mrs. Lathrop's saying slowly and gravely,--

"Susan, 'f I was you I wouldn't never say--"

"I ain't goin' to. I made up my mind to never tell a livin' soul the very first thing. To think o' me doin' it! To think o' all these years 't I've tended father night 'n' day, 'n' then to accidentally go 'n' do a thing like that! I declare, it fairly makes me sick all over!"

"Well, Susan, you know what a good daughter you've--"

"I know, 'n' I 've been thinkin' of it. But somehow nothin' don't seem to comfort me none. Perhaps you'd better make me some tea, 'n' while I'm drinkin' it, Jathrop c'n go down town 'n'--"

"Yes," said Mrs. Lathrop, "'n' I'll go right 'n'--"

"That's right," said the bereaved, "'n' hurry."

It was a week later--a calm and lovely evening--and the two friends stood by the fence. The orphan girl was talking, while Mrs. Lathrop chewed her clover.

"It don't seem like only a week!--seems more like a month or even a year. Well, they say sometimes, folks live a long ways ahead in a very short time, 'n' I must say 't, as far 's my observation 's extended, comin' into property always leads to experience, so I couldn't in reason complain 't not bein' no exception. This 's been the liveliest week o' my life, 'n' I'm free to confess 't I haven't cried anywhere near 's much 's I looked to. My feelin's have been pretty agreeable, take it all in all, 'n' I'd be a born fool 'f I didn't take solid comfort sleepin' nights, 'n' I never was a fool--never was 'n' never will be. The havin' somebody to sleep in the house 's been hard, 'n' Mrs. Macy's fallin' through the cellar-flap giv' me a bad turn, but she's doin' nicely, 'n' the minister makes up f'r anythin'. I do wish 't you'd seen him that afternoon, Mrs. Lathrop; he did look _so_ most awful sheepish, 'n' his clean collar give him dead away afore he ever opened his mouth. He set out by sayin' 't the consolations of religion was mine f'r the askin', but I didn't take the hint, 'n' so he had to jus' come out flat 'n' say 't he'd been thinkin' it over 'n' he'd changed his mind. I held my head good 'n' high 't that, I c'n assure you, 'n' it was a pretty sorry look he give me when I said 't I'd been thinkin' it over too, 'n' I'd changed my mind too. He could 'a' talked to me till doomsday about his bein' a consolation, I'd know it was nothin' 't changed him but me comin' into them government bonds. No man alive could help wantin' me after them bonds was found, 'n' I had the great pleasure o' learnin' that fact out o' Lawyer Weskin himself. All his species o' fun-makin' 't nobody but hisself ever sees any fun in, jus' died right out when we unlocked father's old desk 'n' come on that bundle o' papers. He give one look 'n' then all his gay spinniness oozed right out o' him, 'n' he told me 's serious 's a judge 't a woman 's rich 's I be needed a good lawyer to look out f'r her 'n' her property right straight along. Well, I was 's quick to reply 's he was to speak. 'N' I was to the point too. I jus' up 'n' said, Yes, I thought so myself, 'n' jus' 's soon 's I got things to rights I was goin' to the city 'n' get me one."

Miss Clegg paused to frown reminiscently; Mrs. Lathrop's eyes never quitted the other's face.

"There was Mr. Sperrit too. Come with a big basket o' fresh vegetables 't he said he thought 'd maybe tempt my appetite. I d'n' know 's I ever enjoyed rappin' no one over the knuckles more 'n I did him. I jus' stopped to take in plenty o' breath 'n' then I let myself out, 'n' I says to him flat 'n' plain, I says, 'Thank you kindly, but I guess no woman in these parts 's better able to tempt her own appetite 'n' I be now, 'n' you'll be doin' me the only kindness 't it's in you to do me now if you'll jus' take your garden stuff 'n' give it to some one 's is poor 'n' needin'.' He looked so crestfallen 't I made up my mind 't it was then or never to settle my whole score with him, so I up 'n' looked him right in the eye 'n' I says to him, I says, 'Mr. Sperrit, you didn't seem to jus' realize what it meant to me that day 't I took that horse 'n' buggy 'n' drove 'way out to your farm to see you; you didn't seem to think what it meant to me to take that trip: but I c'n tell you 't it costs suthin' for a woman to do a thing like that; it cost me a good deal--it cost me fifty cents.' He went away then, 'n' he can marry Eliza Gringer if he likes, 'n' I'll wish 'em both joy 'n' consider myself the luckiest o' the three."

Mrs. Lathrop chewed her clover.

"'N' then there's Jathrop!" continued the speaker, suddenly transfixing her friend with a piercing glance,--"there's even Jathrop! under my feet night 'n' day. I declare to you 't upon my honor I ain't turned around four times out o' five this week without almost fallin' over Jathrop wantin' me to give him a chance to explain his feelin's, I don't wish to hurt your feelin's, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' it's natural 't, seein' you can't help yourself, you look upon him 's better 'n' nothin', but still I will remark 't Jathrop's the last straw on top o' my hump, 'n' this mornin' when I throwed out the dish-water 'n' hit him by accident jus' comin' in, my patience clean gin out. I didn't feel no manner o' sympathy over his soapy wetness, 'n' I spoke my mind right then 'n' there. 'Jathrop Lathrop,' I says to him, all forgettin' how big he'd got 'n' only rememberin' what a bother he's always been, 'Jathrop Lathrop, you let that soakin' be a lesson to you 'n' march right straight home this instant, 'n' 'f you want to think of me, think 't if I hear any more about your feelin's the feelin' you'll have best cause to talk about 'll be the feelin' o' gettin' spanked.'"

Mrs. Lathrop sighed slightly.

Miss Clegg echoed the sigh.

"There never was a truer sayin' 'n' the one 't things goes by contraries," she continued presently. "Here I've been figgerin' on bein' so happy married, 'n' instid o' that I find myself missin' father every few minutes. There was lots o' good about father, particular when he was asleep. I'd got so used to his stayin' where I put him 't I don't know 's I c'd ever get used to a man 's could get about. 'F I wanted to talk, father was always there to listen, 'n' 'f he wanted to talk I c'd always go downstairs. He didn't never have but one button to keep sewed on 'n' no stockings to darn a _tall_. 'N' all the time there was all them nice gover'ment bonds savin' up for me in his desk! No, I sha'n't consider no more as to gettin' married. While it looked discouragin' I hung on 'n' never give up hope, but I sh'd be showin' very little o' my natural share o' brains 'f I didn't know 's plain 's the moon above 't 'f I get to be eighty 'n' the fancy takes me I c'n easy get a husband any day with those bonds. While I couldn't seem to lay hands on no man I was wild to have one--now 't I know I c'n have any man 't I fancy, I don't want no man a _tall_. It'll always be a pleasure to look back on my love-makin', 'n' I wouldn't be no woman 'f down in the bottom of my heart I wasn't some pleased over havin' 's good 's had four offers inside o' the same week. But I might o' married, Mrs. Lathrop, 'n' Heaven might o' seen fit to give me such a son 's he give you, 'n' 'f I hadn't no other reason for remainin' single that alone 'd be s'fficient. After all, the Lord said 'It is not good for man to be alone,' but He left a woman free to use her common sense 'n' I sh'll use mine right now. I've folded up the pink nightgown, 'n' I'm thinkin' very seriously o' givin' it to Amelia Fitch, 'n' I'll speak out frank 'n' open 'n' tell her 'n' everybody else 't I don't envy no woman--not now 'n' not never."

Mrs. Lathrop chewed her clover.

II

MISS CLEGG'S ADOPTED

It was an evening in early October,--one of those first frosty nights when a bright wood fire is so agreeable to contemplate and so more than agreeable to sit in front of. Susan Clegg sat in front of hers, and doubtless thoroughly appreciated its cheerful warmth, but it cannot be said that she took any time to contemplate it, for her gaze was altogether riveted upon the stocking which she was knitting, and which appeared--for the time being--to absorb completely that persevering energy which was the dominant note of her character.

But still the beauty and brilliancy of the leaping flames were not altogether lost upon an unseeing world, for there was another present beside Susan, and that other was full to overflowing with the power of silent admiration. Her little black beady eyes stared at the dancing lights that leapt from each burning log in a species of rapt absorption, and it was only semi-occasionally that she turned them back upon the work which lay upon her lap. Mrs. Lathrop (for of course it was Mrs. Lathrop) was matching scraps for a "crazy" sofa-pillow, and there was something as touchingly characteristic in the calmness and deliberation of her matching as there was in the wild whirl which Susan's stocking received whenever that lady felt the moment had come to alter her needles. For Susan, when she knit, knit fast and furiously, whereas Mrs. Lathrop's main joy in relation to labor lay in the sensation that she was preparing to undertake it. The sofa-pillow had been conceived--some eighteen months before--as a crazy-quilt, but all of us who have entertained such friends unawares know that the size of their quilts depended wholly upon the wealth of our scrap-bags, and in the case of Mrs. Lathrop's friends their silk and satin resources had soon forced the reduction of her quilt into a sofa-pillow, and indeed the poor lady had during the first weeks felt a direful dread that the final result would be only a pin-cushion. She had begun the task with the idea of keeping it for "pick-up" work, and during the eighteen months since its beginning she had picked it up so rarely that after a year and a half of "matching" it was not yet matched. It goes without saying that Miss Clegg had very little sympathy with her friend's fancy-work and despised the slowness of its progress, but her contempt had no effect whatever upon Mrs. Lathrop, whose friendship was of that quality the basis of which knows not the sensation of being shaken.

So the older woman sat before the fire, and sometimes stared long upon its glow, and sometimes thoughtfully drew two bits of silk from her bag and disposed them side by side to the end that she might calmly and dispassionately judge the advisability of joining them together forever, while the younger woman knit madly away without an instant's loss or a second's pause.