3stalwarts Read Online Free PDF Page B

like?”
    “She’s all right, I guess,” said Gil. “But he married her somewhere down near Schenectady. Her folks had money. I guess she don’t like it up here much. And Mark being a captain in the militia, she likes to tend her place.”
    Mrs. Demooth did not arrive for several days. When she did come for her call,-she emphasized the fact that she was calling —Lana had been helping Gil clear brush.
    Mrs. Demooth made her feel conscious of her heat and soiledness. The woman carried a parasol against the sun, a faded thing, ridiculous to see in the woods, and she wore a white cap on her hair. She bent her head when Lana invited her in from the heat and perched herself on their one chair, beside the hearth, while Lana sat on a low stool across from her.
    “It’s real nice of you to come and see me,” Lana said, anxious to be polite.
    “Don’t say so,” said Mrs. Demooth. She dabbed her face with a small handkerchief. “I meant to come much sooner. I would surely have come. But you know how it is. I have to watch that hired girl of mine during wash days. I declare sometimes I think it’s more work having hired help than doing the work yourself.”
    Lana, who was tired and hot, and cross with herself, felt like saying, “Oh, indeed, Mrs. Demooth.” But she nodded instead.
    “That’s a real nice teapot, isn’t it?” said Mrs. Demooth. “What is it, Wedgwood?”
    “I don’t know,” said Lana. “It’s white chinaware, I think.”
    And it was Mrs. Demooth who said, “Oh, indeed.” Her voice made Lana bristle; she flushed all the way to her eyes and bit her lip.
    Mrs. Demooth was looking round her.
    “You’ve got one of those feathers, I see,” she said, pointing at the peacock’s feather with her parasol. “We used to have a bunch of them at home, but it was terrible the way they collected the dust.”
    Lana only stared at her, and after a moment more Mrs. Demooth rose.
    “You’re tired,” she said kindly. “Do you like it up here, Mrs. Martin?”
    “Yes; why?”
    “I suppose one’s bound to when one’s just married. But it was dreary for me, coming here. These cabins. We’ve lined ours with boards, anyway. That helps. But one gets so tired of the woods; first they’re so still you hear yourself breathing; then at night there’s all the noise— the frogs, the bugs. It’s terrible.” Her voice broke for an instant, and her thin and sullen face puckered so childishly that for an instant Lana could feel sorry for her. “And now there’s this awful war. My folks were King’s people. I don’t understand what everything’s about. And now Mark’s a downright Whig, on the Committee, captain of the militia. He ought to know, I suppose. But I feel so terrible when he’s away. He says there’s chance of the army coming down against us from the west. He talks about our moving down to Herkimer. Of course Mr. Butler wouldn’t do anything to me, but the Indians— you can’t ever tell about what they’ll do. Every time Mark goes to a meeting, I’m left alone. …”
    Her voice trailed off.
    “Yes,” said Lana, finally. “It must be lonesome. But I guess there’s nothing a woman can do about it.” She tried to shift the woman’s thoughts. “Nobody’s got a right to be taxed,” she said, “without their say-so.”
    “Probably not,” said Mrs. Demooth. “I don’t know, I’m sure. It don’t seem right-the price of tea, I mean.”
    She halted in the door.
    “I’m sure,” she said over her shoulder, “that some real tea would be a tonic to you. You must come and visit with me and have some. You must really, Mrs. Martin. It’s such a pleasure to me to have found one woman up here I can talk to.”
    “Thank you,” said Lana in a muffled voice.
    “And, my dear girl,” continued Mrs. Demooth. “You shouldn’t work so hard in the fields. That’s a man’s job. They bring us here and shut us up here. And I say they ought to do their own work. You’re overtired. Over-wrought.