Margaret Wilson

“ The light that glimmered out through the dusk came from as many new kerosene lamps as could be borrowed from the neighbors. Inside the house beds had been removed to make room for dancing, though Isobel McLaughlin sighed to remember that there would be at best an indifferent fiddler, not one with a rhythmic dancing soul—like her Allen. Indoors mosquitoes hummed through the light and odor of the lamps, and out of doors they attacked whoever turned away from the series of smudges the boys had built, and were carefully guarding from flame, between the house and the barn. ”

“ Martha's chum, Greta, had come in then, asking her to go for a swim. Emily liked Greta, with reservations and allowances, thinking her too pretty to be judged severely. She had dazzling eyes: light-blue eyes when she wore light blue; dark-blue eyes when she wore dark blue; gray eyes when she had on a gray suit; and when she pulled that wicked little mauve hat down over her forehead, her eyes were purple as dark pansies. One had to forgive that girl for somewhat too deliberately flashing those glances into male consciousness, Emily argued. But Greta didn't—quite tell the very truth—always. ”

“ It was as if she never heard him protesting. “I canna live in a sty,” she explained, for the thousandth time, and she said new house to him without ceasing, without haste or rest, by night and by day, apropos of everything he mentioned, till he began to wonder if he were indeed a God-fearing Presbyterian, with such murder in his heart. He couldn’t quite beat a woman—a small woman—no matter how utterly she might deserve punishment. He could scarcely do that. But he sometimes wondered if there was any other measure of relief for him. He thought longingly of the silences of Chirstie’s mother. ”

“ After a little Emily said, "I felt sorry for HER, Martha!"
"Yes, you would! You know what a liar she is. Even Eve said she was a liar. Even Eve said she pretended to be sick so she could get money out of her father! Why do you believe them? Oh!" cried Martha, "he's a vile man! Vile! When I think of Richard having to live with those people——" When her sobs let her speak, she went on, "Mother, can't you see what a position he is in?"
"It doesn't seem a position that does any man any credit, Martha." ”

“ Not a quiet woman, the neighbors reflected. Not one of dignity. One who never would scruple to disturb a world for her son. Some of them recalled Isobel McLaughlin when the news of Wully’s death had come to her. They had gone to her carrying their consolation, and she had rejected it with a gesture, going softly about her work with a face that none of them forgot. But Libby Keith took thankfully the crumbs of comfort they saved for her, and begged for more. She humbled herself to ask their incredulous aid. She had no pride left. She had nothing left but her anxiety for her worthless Peter. ”

“ For then a shower came up, after noon, and passed over, and the sun came out with a dazzling soft afternoon brilliance. In the blossoming apple trees orioles were calling, and robins were hopping about in the wet petals below them. The grass was all young, and heavenly green, and the air had a soft and glittering cleanness. It was an afternoon to make even the dull feel that to forget its very quality was to have lived in vain. Emily had played about in the garden all the afternoon. She came into the house to get some labels stowed away in a drawer in her desk. ”

“ But now her eyes were praying, “My baby! Love my baby, Wully!” With her lying there, even her familiar hands looking frail, her hair lying wearily against her pillow, if she had asked him to love a puppy, would he not have bent down to kiss it! Later he had marveled to see her with the child. A farmer, a man judging his very female animals by the sureness of their instincts for their young, he wouldn’t have wanted a wife not greatly maternal, he told himself. ”

“ She might meet somebody who would ask what in the world she was doing in that little hotel upon such an occasion. She lay down, and Emily covered her warmly.
She sat watching her sleep. The afternoon faded away. The darkness came, and they went to bed. There they lay. Martha slept till the evil hour of morning came, and passed distressfully.
They got up, and Emily began to put her things into her bag. As she moved about, peace came to her some way. It was as if she realized at length that she was sentenced to death and there was no escape possible. She must die quietly. ”

“ One might have walked for hours without hearing anything louder than high white clouds casting shadows over the distances, or the tall slough grass bending lazily into waves. One might have gone on startled only by the falling of scarlet swamp-lily seeds, by sudden goldfinches, or the scratching of young prairie chickens in the shorter grasses. For years now not even a baby buffalo had called to its mother in those stretches, or an old squaw broken ripening wild grapes from the creek thicket. Fifteen years ago one might have gone west for months without hearing a human voice. ”

“ Martha looked too sweet in that simple little flesh-colored frock. Emily kissed her impulsively. Eve looked lovely, too, but one didn't just kiss Eve on the impulse, even if she did take one's part stanchly against tender derision. Martha had been making her mother turn round and round to display her new gown. "If you know the trouble I had getting her to get it, Eve!" Martha had murmured. "It took me all the spring vacation to persuade her. I never saw a human being cling to old rags the way that woman does." ”

“ And Wully had unloaded his lumber raging. Caught, he was, trapped. Having to do this unspeakable thing to satisfy the sentimentality of a woman, and to save his secret from desecration. Grimly he had made sure from the doctor that there was no chance of Peter living to reveal what Wully had so well kept hidden. Coldly he had ordered the men at the stable to wash the blood from that face, from that matted beard, as if Peter was their cousin, and not his. Grudgingly he had helped them deposit the bony thing in the wagon. ”

“ He'll think grandma's dying."
"What?" cried Bob. "What'll he do, Eve?"
"I know dad'll settle it. I know he will. She never meant to divorce him. She just wants to frighten Martha because she's got money."
"You mean—— Isn't she going to divorce him?" Bob insisted.
"No. Don't you ever think she is! Oh——" cried Eve, in bitter humiliation, as if now she was compelled to confess the worst, "Mrs. Kenworthy, she—she LOVES that pig! You Wouldn't believe it, maybe. She cries herself sick if he looks at anybody! And ever since she heard that Martha's got money she's been just wild." ”

“ No sign of a man behind the barn, where the grass billows chased one another. No one hiding about the haystack. He strode about seeking. There was no enemy in any place. But beyond the little tree bed, and the garden, beyond the wheat fields—what might be there, to the east to the west, to the north and the south, in those wild man-high grasses! There a thousand men might hide and laugh at pursuers. Looking at those baffling stretches, Wully choked. ”

“ She had gone upstairs, and presently hurried, in a comfortable mature way, to Martha's room. She opened the door, and almost blinked, for the uncompromising afternoon sun made even yet a startling welter of the purples and greens and creamy yellows before her. And then she said: "Oh! You here, Eve?" For in that whirl of gaudiness an auburn-haired, hawk-nosed, thin-faced girl sat in flesh-colored B.V.D.'s, on a black stool, with a dishpan half full of pitted cherries on the floor beside her, and in her lap a green bowl half full of moist seeds. ”

“ Wully was too essentially a farmer ever to try to express his deep satisfaction in words. But when he saw his own wheat strong and green, swaying in the breezes, flushed with just the first signs of ripening, the sight made him begin whistling. And when, working to exhaustion, he saw row after row of corn, hoed by his own hands, standing forth unchoked by weeds, free to eat and grow like happy children, even though he was too tired to walk erectly, something within him—maybe his heart—danced with joy. ”

“ In the taxi they found, Martha gave way to hysterics. She laughed and she sobbed crazily. "Oh, mammie, if she could be right! Can she be right? Am I all right? She don't know what she's talking about. Oh, tell me, can it be true?" She was shaking Emily, trying to shake assurance out of her. "Tell me if it can be true, mammie!"
"Why, Martha—a doctor—must know——"
"No! She doesn't understand! How could it not be? Mammie, tell me. Oh, suppose it's true; I can live! Mammie, I can see you don't believe her! We can go home now. You won't tell dad! Oh, I will be good to you. ”

“ Chirstie kept thinking of the scolding as she drove in the wagon of that harassed man, Alex McNair, with her stepmother and her mother-in-law, to see the new house that was getting about ready for her occupancy. Wully had to lay a plank for a walk hurriedly from the wagon to the house, for the new Mrs. McNair still wore such boots that one step in the thawing black mire would have ruined them. It was always that way. That little insignificant-looking person refused to adjust herself to the new country. ”

“ So Emily made the room as decent as she could.
"Hide that, hide it! I'll manage in the morning. I don't want anybody to suspect anything!"
Emily got into bed, sickened, and gathered the child to her. She was passionate with hate. A man, any man, who inflicted one such hour on a girl——"I could just kill that man!" she was raging. If a decent boy had given her child a box of sickening chocolates, by accident, what a fuss there would have been! How he would have had to grovel! And as she raged in her mind, she heard Martha imploring comfort.
"Oh, how long is this going to go on, mammie?" ”

“ He called to her questioningly. She never lessened her pace. He said later that he had never seen a woman run as fast as she did. He could scarcely keep within sight of her among the dead cornstalks. He happened to see Wully hear her cry of anguish, and his swift, leaping answer. The Squire called to him, and Wully heard him, and stopped, confusedly, and began calling to his wife.
“It’s Uncle Wully, Chirstie! It’s only Uncle Wully!” he called to her, as if he had some great news to give her. She stumbled against him, panting and white, and the Squire hurried on to them, in consternation. ”

“ The car, like everything else expensive, seemed to become the girl. She moved her hands on the large steering wheel with that surprising composure which Emily had admired from her babyhood. She always drove bareheaded. The breeze scarcely disturbed her hair, which was cut and combed almost as it had been ten years ago, when Jim Kenworthy used to sit and stroke it thoughtfully. There was never a day when Martha was at home that Emily didn't notice how distinguished the absolute straightness and fineness of that black hair seemed among shingled and marcelled heads. ”

“ Chirstie sat beside her sewing, an awe-filled pupil in the things of maternity. It was comforting, when one was feeling daily more wretched, to be assured by the mother of thirteen huskies that a baby is just nothing whatever but a joy, no trouble worth speaking of. Did Chirstie remember that her brother Jimmie had been just Wully’s age? Many was the time Jeannie McNair and Isobel McLaughlin had sat together waiting for those two, and sewing, and Jeannie had said so and so, and Isobel had answered thus and thus. ”

“ Emily sat overwhelmed and yearning, trying from time to time to ease her hurt with the words of her happier experience. Her arguments were less threadbare, having been used from the first only by women who felt themselves tenderly loved.
"It is hard luck to be a woman, if you're unlucky, Martha. But if you're lucky, it's not women you're sorry for, but men." ”

“ Was it possible that Geordie, that unconsidered man, knew anything about Chirstie? Or about Wully McLaughlin’s private affairs? He must have meant something, and Wully wanted intensely to know what it was. Doubtless Davie McDowell would presently be inquiring, for gossip’s sake. But Wully assured himself that if Geordie really knew anything about the truth of the matter, he would never dare to tell it. Nor would he have dared to hint before Wully that he knew it! Only—would he not dare? Men dared strange things, nowadays, it seemed! Even cowards like Peter Keith! ”

“ Bob waited to intercept letters from "that skunk" who, Mr. Fairbanks said, was to be for some time in Rochester with his wife; but no letters seemed to come. Martha appeared not to be humiliated by the fact that she had practically declared her love for a man hopelessly, permanently married. In her secluded room she bided her time, a smile on her lips, the sweetest dream in her eyes. She was ignoring her mother not only purposefully, but unconsciously. She had greater things than a mother's anxiety to think about.
Her coldness sickened Emily every minute of the day. ”

“ From the windows of the parlor the women saw the plot that Wully’s father had insisted on breaking the year before, along one side of which the maple seeds he had planted were presently to appear as slight as spears of sprouting grass. From the kitchen window they saw a row of elms as thick as broomsticks, which Wully had brought the fall before from the creek. ”

“ Gee, mammie! Mrs. Benton will be budding all over the county before long." She made Miss Curtis admire her willow tree, and the clear water gurgling along beneath it.
"You're a glutton for education, Martha," Miss Curtis sighed, "to be living with me in the city when you might be out here at home!" And she went in to get ready for supper.
Left alone for a moment with her mother, Martha stood sniffling.
"I had forgotten it smelled so good, so clean!" she said, wistfully. "I simply hate Chicago. It's just sickening when spring comes. Everybody goes out of town for week-ends. ”