A Promise to Love Read Online Free PDF

rigid line. “That woman’s crazier’n I thought. She’s probably walking around with her corset laced too tight again. Forty-two years old and still trying to have the waistline of a girl. I’ve heard she even sleeps in it—is that true?”
    Ingrid nodded. “She have sleep corset, day corset, and party corset—very tight, that one.”
    Hazel shook her head. “Imagine sleeping in something made of bone and steel, laced so tight you can’t breathe.”
    â€œShe say girl-childs need wear too.”
    â€œAre you making a joke?”
    â€œNo. I hear her tell Mrs. Burnett to lace her dotter up tight at night.”
    â€œLittle Lucy? For goodness sake. That sweet child is only seven years old!”
    â€œMillicent say it best when the bones still soft.”
    â€œI hope the mother refused.”
    â€œMrs. Burnett say she do when girl is eleven.”
    â€œGoodness! Well, you’re just as well out of there. Come on in and we’ll find you a place to sleep.”
    Hazel’s indignation about the way she had been treated made Ingrid feel enormously better. She hadn’t been certain if getting beaten by an employer was considered normal in America. Now she knew that not only was it not normal, it was considered crazy.
    Even though Hazel’s house was small, Ingrid immediately felt at home. Instead of every corner being stuffed with furniture, there was a barrenness that appealed to her Swedish love of cleanliness and order.
    Except it wasn’t really all that clean. Hazel, after all, was not young. She no longer had the clearest eyes or the sharpest nose. Perhaps in return for a bed, Hazel would allow Ingrid to give the place a good scrubbing.
    â€œYou can sleep in the loft,” Hazel said. “There’s a bed and a bit of furniture up there. Go on up and get yourself settled.”
    Ingrid mounted the narrow stairs and was pleased with what she saw. The roof was steep, and the loft felt roomier because of it. A small, glassed-in window was at one end, allowing a ray of late afternoon sunshine to dance upon the wooden floor. There had been no window in the Bowerses’ attic.
    Pegs were set into the logs for hanging clothes. There was a single rope bed with a plain dressing table and oil lamp beside it. A footstool was pulled up to a small rocking chair.
    It was more than enough, especially since she was grateful to have a roof over her head at all. She scooted her one piece of luggage beneath the bed and went back downstairs.
    â€œThank you,” she said. “I pay with work. I clean now? Sweep floor?”
    â€œYou’ll be paying me back by giving me some company in the evenings,” Hazel said. She patted the dog’s head, which came up to her waist. The wolf-dog could easily have made a meal of Hazel with a few bites, but it not only tolerated Hazel’s loving hand on its head, it also closed its eyes with pleasure when the old woman stroked it.
    â€œShe-Wolf here isn’t much of a conversationalist at night, but she can scare the daylights out of anyone that might try to take advantage of me.”
    The dog gave Ingrid a straight, meaningful look, as though making certain Ingrid knew she was there on a probationary status only.
    â€œShe bite?” Ingrid was uneasy about the glare she was getting from the wolf-dog. “She look like she bite!”
    â€œNot unless I tell her to.”
    Ingrid tried to ignore the giant wolf-dog. She rubbed her hands together and looked around. “Give me job.”
    â€œLet’s get you settled first. That bed up there ain’t been slept in for a while,” Hazel said. “Might be a good idea to shake the mice out of it and tear some fresh corn shucks to put in. I got some I been saving since last fall. Hadn’t seen the need till now.”
    â€œI help!” She was pleased to have something productive to do.
    â€œGood then.” Hazel dragged a large