Jane Field

must go to Boston; then cross the city to the other depot, where she would take the Elliot train. This elderly unsophisticated w

leaves. To one looking across them, they almost seemed played over by little green flames; now and then a young birch tree stood away from the others, and shone by itself like a very torch of spring. Mrs. Fiel

s' room and bought her ticket, then she sat down and waited. There were two other women there-middle-aged countrywomen in awkward wool gowns and flat straw bonnets, with a certain repressed excitement in their home

es had its grand multiple in the look on hers. She had not only st

st the floor, ready to lift her at the signal of the trai

hat is?" she whispered. But neither of them knew. They were from th

e way upon the belongings of the little country depot-the battered yellow settees, the time-tables,

n't she?" one of the women

k out of the window with an innocent and absent air. But they need not have been troubled. Jane, although she heard the whisper perfectly, did no

sounded, the women all pushed

es to Boston?" Mrs. Field

ciprocative flutter. "I'm goin' to as

er friend remarke

man. She was hardly satisfied with his affirmative ans

d wave of his hand toward the

lf into the car. When she had taken her seat, she

ce with her bag in her lap, and never stirred. There was a look of rigid pre

able merriment over her, twisting their pretty silly faces, and rolling their b

nd noted their merriment gravely. She never dreamed that they were

h no hesitation to walk across the city to the depot where she must take the cars for Elliot. She could not afford a carriage, and she would not

in a while the magnificence of some shop window, a dark flash of jet, or a flutter of lace on a woman's dress caught her eye, but she did not see it. She had nothing in common with anything of that kind; she had to do with the primal facts of life. Coming as she was out of the country quie

train and stalked, as if with a definite object, around the depot platform. She did not for one second hesitate or falter. She went up to a man wh

ome to it, on the right-hand side," he answered.

ly started flower-beds. In one there was a clump of yellow daffodils. Two yellow-haired little girls were playing out in the yard

statue before the office door,

a dull oil-cloth carpet, some beetling cases of heavy books, a few old arm-chairs, and one battered leather easy-chair. A great desk stood against the farther

e had never before been in a lawyer's office. She was fully possessed with the rural and feminine ignorance and holy fear of all legal

an at the desk, with his gilded white head. He wrote on steadily, and

sional abnormal perception of them which the deaf seem sometimes to pos

ntent. She had, indeed, just at this point said to herself that she would slip out and knock again if he did not look around. She had not the courage to speak. It was almost

The old man turned suddenly and saw her. She stood back again; there was a

imed. "Good-day, madam. I

rmured a good

us pomposity. Suddenly he stopped short; he had passed a broad slant of dusty sunlight which had lain between him and his visitor, and he could see her face p

plied Mrs. Field. She tried to b

gnize you perfectly now. I should have before, if the

n he pushed forward the leather easy-chair with gracious insinuat

d majestically reflective pauses, during which he leaned back in his chair and tapped the arm slowly. In fact his flow of ideas failed him for a moment, his mind being so constituted that they came in rapid and temporary bursts, geyser fashion. He inquired when Mrs. Field arrived, was kindly circumstantial as to

her discussion concerning it, as a matter of business, had better be postponed until morning. Daniel Tuxb

t, she never spoke herself. But he did not seem to notice it; he had enough garnered-in complacency to

kind as to excuse me for a moment?" said he, and went out of the office with a fuss

me with a whispering of silk, but his deaf ears did not perceive that. He did not notice her at all un

ervous vibrations. She stood apparently still, but her black silk whispered all the time, and loose ends of black ribbon trembled. The black silk had an air of old gentility about it, but it was very shiny; there we

rained composure, but now her long, stern fac

said the lawyer, with a blandly

"Yes, I s'pose I do," said she, in a voice like a shrill high chirp. "It's Mis' Maxwell, ain't it-Edward's wife? H

a struggle, putting her twisted hand into the other

u come to to

st

to remember the name of the place wher

en R

ou ain't changed much, come to look at you; not so much as

s. Field recoiled from a lie

d, either," responded she, with fine alacrity. "I've grown old and wrinkled and yellow, though I ain't gray," wi

, I

em dancing with a little dip of her head when she spoke again. "I thought you did," said she. "Well, you're comin' over to my hou

is old woman, with her straight demands f

ld lady went on. "I don't want to hurry you in your business

ut I guess I'd better not. I've mad

us to-night," interposed the lawyer. He had

guess I'd better not," repeated M

made, I ain't goin' to urge you, Esther," said she; "but any time you feel disposed to come, you'll be wel

Mrs. Maxwell, weren't you coming in? Isn't

as goin' by, and I thought I'd jest look in a minute; that was all. It wa'n't anything. Goo

to see you sitting here," he whispered, with a confidential smile. "She wouldn'

this other woman was. She knew now-the mother of the young

e excuses to come in and see if I had any news. She has been twice as much concerned as her daughter a

tter be goin'," said she. "It must be you

rs. Maxwell, you will, of course, stay and t

o you for invitin' me, but

word to her. You had better come right over to the house with me now, and to-mo

ter's put herself out, but

y. "I beg your pardon, but I didn't quit

ster an' you for invitin' me

ted again for a moment, and let me

waver toward his will, but all the time she abided toughly in her own self like a willow bough. "But, Mrs. Maxwell, what can you do?"

right up t

axwell

here ain't anyt

s rather- No, I don't know as there is any actual objection to your going. I suppose the house belongs to you. But it i

ll as not; if I can get into the house." Mr

ou would jest tell me where I'd find the key," she ventured to remark. She had a vague idea that she would be told

will go to the house wi

uch trouble. I guess I c

xwell," said the lawyer, in a smoothl

tinate old woman stalking at his side in her black clothes. Feminine opposition, even in slight matters, was wont to aggravate him, but in no such degree as this. He found it hard to recover his usual courtesy of manner, and indeed scarcely spoke a word during the walk. He could not himself understand his d

y long walk to t

nd unlatched a gate, and held it open wit

ith pine needles. Tall old pine trees stood in groups about the yard. There were also elm and horse-chestnut trees

pillared porch to the front door. Mrs. Field passed between the two outstanding pillars, which reared themse

in his impatient departure. But at last he jerked open the door, and a strange conglomera

ch had hung in the closets and rustled through the rooms, every

smote one in the face upon the opening of the door. Still it was not a disagreeable, but rather a suggestive and poetical odor, wh

now. "The house is musty," he rema

e stepped inside at once. "I'm

" said he, "you must let me go in with you and get a light." He spoke in a tone of short p

one. I hate to make

g in his pocket for a match. "Of course you cannot find one

f somewhat familiar with the surroundings, but on the way to it he stumbled over a chair with an exclamation. It sounded like an oath to Mrs. Fi

you," said she, deprecat

that she should choose to refuse his hospitality, and spend such a lonely and uncomfortable night. "I won't say another word to her about it," he declared to himself. So

related to his sister upon his return home. His sister was a widow,

an sheets on the front chamber bed. It's made considerable work for nothin'." She eyed, as she spoke, the two children, w

she'll have for supper,

dryly, taking a sip of his sauce. He

reat old house. I know I shouldn't," observed the children

ell regulated. Indeed, he did not come of a polished family; he was the only educated one among them. His sister, Mrs. Low, regarded him with all the defe

al set kind of a woma

for it," repli

her down here before," she remarked, with a judicial air. Her spectacles glittered, a

oft aroma of boiling tea all about. The pink and white children ate their pe

p in all that big house," remarked their

inking their tea and talking her over, Jane Field sat bolt-upright in one of the old flag-bottomed chairs in the Maxwell sitting-

which she and her plain folk, with their secretaries and desks and bureaus, had known nothing. The clock had stopped at three o'clock. Mrs. Field thought to herself that it might have been the hour on which old Mr. Maxwell died, reflecting that souls were more apt to pass away in the wane of the night. She would have like to wind the clock, and set the hands moving past that ghostly hour, but she did not dare to stir. She gazed at the large, dull figures sprawling over the old carpet, at the glimmering satiny scrolls on the wall-paper. On the man

er grew more indistinct, the brilliant colors of the prisms turned white,

on the shelf, but she did not dare to rise to cross the roo

nt clock showed out above the cumbersome shadow of the great mahogany piece. The glimmer came from a neighbor's

ecorous and formal caller who might expect at any moment to hear the soft, heavy step o

d to evil, and given up her soul for a handful of gold. Many a time in the night, voices which her straining fancy threw out, after the manner of ventriloquism, from her own brain, seemed actually to vibrate through the house, footsteps pattered, and garme

kfast. She had a little of her yesterday's lunch left; she kindled a fire, and made a cup of tea. She found some in a caddy in the pantry. She set out her meal on the table and drew a chair before it. Sh

en yard, inclosed on two sides by the Maxwell house and barn. A drive-way led to the barn, and on the farther side a row of apple-trees stood. There was a fresh wind

a woman who stood beside it trading. She watched them with a dull wonder. What had she now to do with market wagons and d

it into thoughts, as if she had descended far below the surface of all things, and found out that good and evil were the

the lawyer's office. She locked the front door, put the key un

rst she had seen that season. There was a dewy arch of trees overhead, and they were quite fully leaved out. Mr. Tuxbury was in his

will be in pretty soon," he had rem

u know which side your bread is buttered," she ret

he other law

" Daniel Tuxbury had replied, lapsing into stateliness, as h

comfortable night, and on being assured that she had, pressed her to drink a cup of coffee which he had requested his sister to keep warm.

scription of her new possessions. She listened with very little understanding. She did not feel any inter

fixed his eyes reflectively upon the ceiling. "Well, Mrs. Maxwell," said he, "I thin

ir," sa

business man; he kept his affairs in excellen

pon his visitor; business over, he had a mind for a little personal interview to sh

s,

he li

id it with a gasping rea

warding off an answer from her, his face became furrowed with reflective wrinkles. "Field!" cried he, suddenly, with a jerk, a

years

om some one near the office door. Mrs. Field turned