"Lived a lie? I don"t understand how anybody can do that. Didn"t he love you?"
"Once, perhaps, but the love of some men is as variable as the wind, blowing in many directions."
"But how could he tell you he loved you if he didn"t?"
"My dear, men tell women many things that aren"t true."
"I don"t like to know that." She ceased churning again and thoughtfully leaned upon the dasher. Suddenly she looked up and then came the question: "And did they put yo" husband in jail?"
"Oh, no."
"What did they do with him?"
"His friends shrugged their shoulders, laughed and--forgave him."
"And didn"t yo" friends try to kill him?"
"Oh, certainly not."
"What did they do?"
"Well, they shrugged--and didn"t forgive me."
"But they had nothing to forgive," she replied, with a frown.
"In the world, my dear, that makes no difference." She was silent for a time and the girl stood motionless, looking at her. "Sometimes I have thought," she continued, "that it was not altogether his fault. With the error of tenderness and confidence I believed that my life was his, his mine; I believed that his every thought belonged to me--and perhaps I asked him too many questions, and when a woman begins to do that, she is unconsciously setting a trap for her husband."
For a moment the girl looked at her. "I don"t know what you mean. But when you came here with all yo" putty dresses, I thought you must be happy."
"Little girl, there are many well-dressed troubles, and misery may gleam with diamonds. But we won"t talk about it. I have battled it out and now I am surprised--and perhaps just a little disappointed," she added with a laugh, "to find that I"m not as unhappy as I was. Sometimes there is a consolation in feeling that we are utterly wretched."
"Is there?" She meditated for a time, puzzled, and then said: "I don"t believe it. You might just as well say that we have better health when we"re sick."
Mrs. Mayfield looked away, and the girl stricken with remorse, hastened to her and said: "There, I have been too brash, haven"t I? You must forgive me for I didn"t intend to be brash."
"Brash, my dear? What do you mean by that?"
She laughed. "Why, I thought everybody know"d what brash meant. Well, it"s er--too quick to say somethin" you oughtn"t to say."
"Well, then, I don"t think you were "brash.""
"Thank you." She resumed her work, and after a time left off to inquire: "May I ask you somethin"?"
"Certainly--anything."
"Well, where you came from how long does it take anybody to--to fall--in love?"
Mrs. Mayfield blushed. "No longer than it does here, my dear. Sometimes here and everywhere love comes like death, in the twinkling of an eye.
But why do you ask?"
Upon her bosom the girl pressed her hands. "Because lately there is somethin" here that tastes bitter an" sweet at the same time. You have told me somethin" about yo"se"f an" now I will tell you somethin". I--I love Tom."
The woman arose. "Oh, but you mustn"t tell it--you mustn"t let him know it. He is wayward and I am afraid that he has innocently deceived you.
He is hardly responsible--he says many things he doesn"t mean. He--"
"And is he a liar, too?" the girl exclaimed, her eyes ablaze with anger.
"Oh, no, not that. But has he told you?"
She stood cold and defiant. "Not with words that I didn"t understand, but sometimes when he looks into my eyes I feel that he is tellin" me with somethin" I do understand, and now--now I must shut my eyes." And catching up the churn she ran into the house, Mrs. Mayfield calling after her.
"Come back, Lou, I didn"t mean that. Please come back and let me explain." She hastened toward the door and Lou came running out. "Lou, I didn"t mean--" But she would not stay to hear. She ran away and Mrs.
Mayfield was begging her to return when Tom came hurriedly out of the house. The girl had seen him and with fluttering heart she was seeking the loneliness of the woods.
Mrs. Mayfield seized Tom by the hand. "Just a moment, Tom. Wait, sir; just a moment." He strove to pull away, but she held him back.
"Yes, as soon as I catch the fawn. Let me go, please."
"Why, have things come to such a pa.s.s as this? Wait just a moment, I tell you."
"Well, what is it?"
"Why won"t you be more considerate? Why do you act this way? What are you trying to do? You must remember that Mr. Starbuck is our host, and that his daughter, while one of the most lovable of little girls--"
"Ah, you are leaving off your romance and are coming down to level-headedness. Yes, she is lovable and as sweet as a wild strawberry, and I have fought against this thing until I am tired of it. But what are you trying to get at?"
"She is not of your world, Tom."
"Oh, world be blowed. I"ve got no world--never had one."
"Well, then, your set, your--"
"d.a.m.n my set, if I"ve got one. I wouldn"t give her for all the sets in the world. You can see that--you must have seen it all along."
"Then you are in earnest?" she asked, putting her arm about him.
"In earnest? You might just as well ask a dying man if he means it."
"That"s all I want to know, my boy--I want to know that you are true."
"You are all right, auntie," he said, kissing her.
"It is simply a question of love, Tom. And that should come before everything. Go and find her."
"Yes, if I have to track her with the hounds," he replied, hastening away; and she stood looking after him, with a new light in her eye. And while she was standing there, Jim came out of the house.
"Ma"m," he said, and she turned with a start; and toward her he came with a gentle boldness, and she looked at him in surprise. "Ma"m, I have come to tell you good-bye."