Mary Stewart Cutting

“ Mrs. Laurence's brows expressed tragic disappointment; her tone, if affectionate, was despairing. "I never saw any one like you, you never remember a thing I ask you to, any more. You don't seem to have a mind for anything but that old law business. You'll have to order the coal this morning."
"But, Nan—" Mr. Laurence, with his overcoat on and hat in hand, bent his fine, thin face over his watch. "I don't see how I can, possibly; I've an appointment in town, and I must go around by Herkimer Street on my way to the station to see if Lalor's got the papers he promised me." ”

“ You're getting too absent-minded to live. My lovely violets!" she mourned tenderly.
"Isn't the house very cold to-night?"
"Well, I should think it might be! It's freezing." Mrs. Laurence's accumulated wrath poured forth. "There hasn't been a sign of the coal you ordered this morning, and I've been waiting for it all day. It's a perfect outrage, and I want you to tell Harner so, Will. ”

“ Laurence stopped short in disgust. "I never saw such a place; it's as much as your life's worth to get anything delivered when you want it. Is that Timothy I hear in the cellar now?" Timothy was the furnace man of the Ridge. "Tell him not to let the fire go entirely out; we'll have to manage it some way. If he comes back between two and three the coal will certainly be here then." ”

“ Her figure was that of a young girl, but when she raised her small, long-chinned face you saw that she was considerably older; there were innumerable fine wrinkles around her pretty eyes—which had a soft haze over them, as if she had cried a great deal—and her abundant fair hair seemed a shade or two lighter than any nature could have intended it. ”

“ You'd better not walk any farther."
"Oh, I have to go as far as Harner's to order a ton of furnace coal."
"I'll stop and order it for you, if that's all," said Mr. Laurence. His eyes, lightly comprehensive, took note of the clock in the church tower. "I've got a good five minutes before my train. You go straight home, Mrs. Lalor."
He looked down protectingly to meet her upward gaze, which was relieved and coquettish and yet, somehow, a little sad, as she answered:
"Well, if you will—! I never do anything for myself if there's a gentleman to do it for me." ”

“ Spicer to Mrs. Laurence in a pause of the later conversation. "Mrs. Stone said she was coming." Mrs. Spicer gave an affectionate little squeeze to her neighbor's hand. "I thought Ernest would object, but he seemed quite willing. I wish that Mrs. Frere wasn't here, you have to be so careful what you say before her."
"We won't stay very long," murmured Mrs. Laurence assentingly. Mr. Lalor and her husband had apologetically disappeared behind closed doors to transact their business together, the latter with that last look at her over the heads of the others that meant their own special farewell. ”

“ It does seem pretty bad to have you remember to do things for other people, when you can't remember them for me, but that isn't the point I mind most, it's not the real thing—what I can't stand is you not having the courage to own up, to tell me the truth. ”

“ Lalor talk about 'Bennie' you'd think he was the king-pin, as Mr. Stone expresses it."
"Oh, but I think that's really fine of her," said Mrs. Laurence, with proselyting zeal. "There's a courage, a devotion about her that always appeals to me; you can't help seeing that she's had such a hard time. I'm sure if you knew her better you'd like her."
"She may be devoted to her husband," said Mrs. Spicer very fast, "but if you'd see her going in on the train—Ernest Spicer says he always avoids her when he can; he does hate to be made conspicuous. ”

“ I ought to be a hundred times nicer than I am. When I saw her husband standing there to-night you looked so fine and beautiful and good—and truthful"—a sob, not tears, but just a sob broke athwart the words—"I thank God every day on my knees that I'm married to you!" ”

“ Spicer eagerly, seizing the required implement from the table.
"You'd better fan Mrs. Stone, she looks so warm," suggested Mrs. Lalor. "The house is so heated, it makes one's face burn after the cold air. Wouldn't you like a little powder to cool it?" She jumped up hospitably, leaving Mr. Stone still upon the floor, "It isn't the slightest trouble to get it, I always keep it in this little cupboard, with a puff and a handglass—and some rouge," she explained in a confidential tone. "Not that I care for rouge myself, Bennie doesn't like it, but some people always use it for the evenin'." ”

“ If Will really refused to order the coal he couldn't be quite her Will any more.
Mr. Laurence, leaving the house, had debated momentarily in which of two opposite directions he should proceed, then he turned up Herkimer Street; to get the papers from Lalor was part of that "business" which, to a man, comes first. ”

“ She hastened down the steps now to join her friend, her large, mannish figure in the overcoat and cap wobbling ludicrously on the narrow, slippery length of drift-bordered sidewalks under the gas-lamp that was already lighted.
The wind had gone down, but so had the mercury; the air was "bitter chill." As Mrs. Laurence turned back into her hall the atmosphere there seemed only a few degrees warmer. Gas logs made but slight impression on the general temperature of a house in this weather; the hand that she held over the register received but the faintest, scarce-warm breath upon it. Mrs. ”

“ Laurence ordered some this morning, and it hasn't come yet. I would have sent a message to Harner's, but I have been expecting the coal wagon every moment."
"I saw your husband speaking to Mrs. Lalor as I came back from the butcher's," said Mrs. Stone. She paused significantly. "Isn't she the most noticeable thing you ever saw!She never seems to have any morning clothes."
"I don't believe she has any money for new ones," suggested Mrs. Laurence gently.
"No, I don't suppose she has, but even then— Of course, I'm sorry for her, we all are; every one knows what Mr. ”

“ I don't think there's anything like dancing for keeping up the spirits. I don't know what I'd do without Bennie up No'th here, he's so thoughtful of me!"
"How extraordinary!" breathed little Mrs. Spicer to Mrs. Stone, athwart the rapt gaze of the silent Mrs. Frere. Though it was evident that neither Mr. Stone nor Mr. Spicer felt appalled, both men seemed to be impalpably walked off from the jurisdiction of their wives, as they sat smiling with admiring indulgence at the hostess, with young Mr. Frere, open-mouthed, behind them. In spite of the semi-artificiality of her aspect, Mrs. ”

“ Bennie, get that arm-chair out of the corner for Mrs. Laurence; be careful the top doesn't fall off of it—we break all our things moving so often! Mr. Stone, won't you put that footstool under Mrs. Spicer's feet, I'm sure she's not comfortable. Mr, Spicer, if you'll kindly move the table near me to make more room—Bennie, run upstairs and get the little feather hand-screen—I know that lamp's shining in your eyes, Mrs. ”