Hannah's Dream Read Online Free PDF Page A

pencil.  She read the page and signed it on the bottom.
    "We'll be here first thing Monday.  We have to finish up a job at Margaret Mason's first."
    Horace looked at Marian as though trying to decide if she was the type of woman who enjoyed hearing a bit of gossip.
    "Did you hear about the vagabond Mrs. Mason's gardener found in his shed out back of her house?"
    "I think Becky mentioned something to me about that."
    "George went out to the shed to get his rake and there was this man, bold as brass, sleeping in the shed.  He was young, and he had an accent, George said.  Well, Mrs. Mason took him in!  Just like that!  Well, you know, she's one of them that calls herself a patron of the arts, and George says he's some kind of artist.  I don't know about that Mrs. Mason.  Why, a man like that could kill her in her sleep!"
    "She truly took him in?"
    "She did.  Now she's trying to get the school board to hire him on as an art teacher.  Can you imagine that?"
    "Then perhaps he isn't a vagabond at all.  Maybe he's just down on his luck."
    "Still don't think it's a good idea to keep him so close.  She's letting him stay in the rooms over her carriage house.  Says the light is good there for painting.  I told my wife to be careful.  We live right near the Mason house."
    "I'm sure he's not a danger, Mr. Beecham.  Mrs. Mason seems commonsensical enough to me.  If she felt taking him in was the right thing to do, then I'm sure he won't be a problem."
    "You haven't seen him, ma'am."
    "Well, no, but..."
    "He's young.  He has this look about him that catches a woman's eye."
    "Oh, I see."
    "You watch out for that young'un of yours.  And you be careful.  You should maybe keep your doors locked from now on."
    "Oh, Mr. Beecham.  I'm sure that won't be necessary."
    "Just the same.  I'd be remiss if I didn't tell you, you having no husband and all, and the girl."
    "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Beecham, and I'll consider your advice."
    Marian walked to the bedroom door, signaling the end of their meeting, and Horace followed.  When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Horace began to put out his hand but pulled it back.  Marian noticed the gesture and pretended to ignore it as Mr. Beecham's face turned red.
    "Then you'll start the work on Monday?" she asked.
    "Yes, ma'am.  We'll be here first thing."
    Marian opened the door.
    "Thank you for stopping by, Mr. Beecham."
    "You're welcome, Mrs. Dawes.  And thank you for your business."
    Marian hadn't noticed Becky standing behind her as she closed the door.
    "As though there was anyone else to hire," she said.
    "He gave me a good price, Becky."
    "I'm sure," Becky replied.
    Becky had a low opinion of Mr. Beecham.  She'd seen him flirting with Jane Keeler, the owner of the dry goods store, the day they all went to buy Hannah some modeling clay, and didn't feel it was proper considering he was married and all.  Jane had to order the clay, and Becky scowled at her as they stood at the cash register.
    "Where's Hannah?" Marian asked.
    "She's out with Johnny Liberty.  They were going to the library."
    "Have you heard from Jane?"
    "No, the hussy hasn't called."
    "Oh, Becky, it was nothing.  I don't know why you get yourself in such a tizzy over things like this."
    "He's a married man.  He has no right making eyes at Jane Keeler.  Her and her short skirts."
    Jane wore her dresses an inch higher than considered decent.  She was in her early thirties and felt she needed an advantage over younger women if she was to find a husband before she was forty.  Jane wasn't what one would call a conventional beauty.  She did, however, have a certain charm that men found attractive, particularly married men, and it was rumored that Jane had been intimate with Maeve O'Conner's husband, Liam.
    "I read in the newspaper that skirts may go up an inch this season," Marian said with a smile.
    She always found Becky's exasperation amusing and would often goad her to see what Becky would