Jane Field

ery spirit of the sea. The air would be full of salt vigor, the horizon sky take on the l

ell the sea, and also the pines in the yard. There were many old pine trees, and their soft musical roar sounded high overhead. The spring air in Green River had been full of sweet moisture and earthiness from these steaming mead

. She was tall and narrow-shouldered, but heavy-hipped; her black skirt flounced as

r voice was gentle; she cleared he

," returned L

Maxwell

tared

a deprecating way. She smoothed down the folds of her over-skirt. Lois started; t

ow when sh

I d

ttle flirt, when suddenly a door slammed somewhere in the hou

e house, straight through to the kitchen, where her mother wa

is

She wants to se

like an angel's before evil. Mrs. Field looked

ed it away fiercely, and passed on into the sitting-room.

o, Mis' Maxwe

" replied Mrs. Field, lookin

sturdy set-back on her heels. "I guess you don't kno

t her lips were too stiff. "I

rself so she could see it. "I ain't got quite so much color as I used to have," she said, "but I ain't thought I'd changed much other w

uttered a fe

e always looked jest the way you do now since I've known you. I lived in this house a who

king in the glass while she talked, gave her front ha

this rockin'-chair, Mis

down, I'm in a little of a hurry.

ield w

she glanced in the glass. "I'd had my home here a good many years, an' it seemed hard to lose it all in a minute so. There he came home that Sunday noon an' eat

; she straightened her bonnet absently; he

osite, her eyes down

a little out of the village, an' there ain't much passin'. I like to be where I can see passin', an' get out to meetin' easy if it's bad weather. I've been thinkin'-I didn't know but maybe you'd

f keepin' help," returned Mrs. Fie

self help. There ain't any need of my goin' out to live. I've got enough to live on, an' I've got good clothes. I've got a black silk stiff enough to stand alon

elin's," said Mrs. Field, following her into

od-mornin', Mis' Maxwell." Her voice shook, she held up her b

g against the sash, looking out. Her mother took some biscuits out of the stove

the table. Loi

this table is bought with your own money. I went out last night and got s

es were set straight ahead; all her pale features seemed to point out sharply; her whole face had the look of

r," sa

t is

know what I'

you goin

er's office, and-tell him."

u're goin' to do," said h

the truth," retur

put your mother i

her, you can't mak

or not. I don't know anything about

ll put you there," said she, in a cruel vo

ar. Her mother worked about the house; Lois could hear her now and then, and every time she shuddered. She had a feeling that the woman in the house was not her mother. Had she been fami

tlessly-the black-draped hearse, the slow-marching bearers, the close-covered wagons, and the nodding horses. She could see it plainly through the thin spring branches. It was quite a long processio

their homeward road at a lively pace, the gate clicked

pproached, the door behind her open

Field, with rigid ceremony,

way home. I wanted to ask you an' your niece to come over an' take tea to-morrow. Flora, she'd come, but she didn't get o

was eying Lois. "I s'pose this is your niece, Esther?

ll make you acquainted, Mis'

d Lois took it trembling; her little

Esther. I s'pose she takes afte

avors her father's fo

y well, but seems to me

l," returned Mrs. Field, i

ust come over and see us real often. This is my nephew, Francis Arms, Lo

at the young man, and re

alk in?" sai

e party; the old lady still held

spered; "he's a real nice young man. I'm goin' to hav

l on the high black sofa; her feet swung clear from the floor. The young man, w

-school education, but he's always been real smart an' steady. Lawyer Totten's son, that's been through college, wanted the place, but they gave it to Francis. Mr. Perry, whose mother was buried this afternoon, is p

guess I

e came right after his father died, an' that was before you came here. He was

guess

nd of wonted here, Esther? It's a pretty big house, but then it ain't as if you hadn't been here before. I s'pose

severe face fronting the other woman. Although fairly started forth i

, an' had got into the way of thinkin' nothin' had ought to be changed. It wa'n't never my way; I never believed in hangin' on to old shackly things because you've always had 'em. There ain't no use tryin' to set down tables an' chairs as solid as the everlastin' hills. There was Mis' Perry, she that was buried this afternoon, Mr. Perry's mother, when she came here to live after her husband died, she sold off every stick of her old furniture, an' got the

before her, and there was a pause. The young man looked across at Lois,

ou if there wa'n't two of them old swell-fr

t leaning forward toward her callers, with her

lean new one, but I'm kind of short of bureau drawers, an' I'd kind of like to have it b

ddenly. "You can have it jes

of blue china dishes that Nancy, that's Thomas' wife, you know, always said Flora should have when she got done with them. Thomas, he never said anything about it a

jest as well as not," ret

n elegant set in his window. Of course folks that can afford them would rather have them. But I s'pose Flora would think considerable of that old set becaus

eld. "If there's anything you

d knitted and his lips compressed. Lois had just thought how cross he looked. "You ain

No, ma'am," she

into the grave

ma'

monument. Francis, don't you want to go over t

rose p

ther not," Lois

Mis' Perry's grave, too. I never saw such handsome flowers as they had, an' they c

he young man, smiling

room, and presently re

as the two went out. And her voice sounded more lik

as the first time she had ever walked alone with a young man. She was full of that shy consciousness which

ould have dreamed how her heart, in spite of the terrible exigency in which she was placed, was panting insensibly with the sweet rhythm of youth. In the midst of all this trouble and bewilderment, she had not been able to help a strange feel

this. "It's a pleasant day," he

r," she

ds of flowering-almond arched over the old graves, and bushes of bridal-wreath sent out white spikes. Weeping-willows swept over them in lines of gold-green l

Arms went on to t

was speaking about," he s

grouped around the central shaft, their Gree

lptor," said Francis; "and i

nod

r, so it won't be injured by

to a new grave, covered with wreaths and floral devices. Th

unt Jane wanted you

r," retu

at the long mound covered

o over this w

ial lots. On the farther side of the cemetery the ground sloped abruptly to

your aunt would mind. Suppose we s

d at him h

ew minutes," he said,

ves on the bank, and loo

here, isn't it?

plea

though a little constrainedly,

ll," said he. "I hope you feel b

; I guess I do,

under her hat. There was a grave pitifulness, like an old woman's

air come on your forehead. I've got mine off; it's more

ok off

ly. "You're going to live right along he

ly. She was very pale, and h

What have I said?" he cr

hid her face; her b

. Then he put his hand on her little moist curly head. Lois' hair was not thick, but it curled softly.

obbed

don't know what the matter is, and I don't know but you'll think I'm offici

anything," said she, catching her breath, and

you fee

uth firmly set. They were both silent for a m

s any school here that

sch

to teach. I've been teachin

ant to get

you kno

my business, but I thought you hadn't been ve

, in a desperate tone. "

an who had inherited the Maxwell property was too hard and close to support her

that morning mother-that morning she came down here. I was just going to school, and I was a good deal better, when Mr. Starr's boy brought it. He said he thought it was better for me to take a little vacation. I knew what that meant. I knew Ida had wanted the school right along. I told Amanda I was coming down here

Francis. "You don't want

k. It's awful here, awful. I

"Why, you poor little girl, are y

sobbed i

sper-"it's none of my business, but I think you'd better tell me; it won'

she moaned. "Ida's got my school. I haven't got anythin

heer up; you'll get along all right. You won't be homesick a bit after a little while; you'll like it here. There are some nice girls about your age. My cousin Flora will come and see you. She's older than you, but she's a real nice girl. She's feeling rather upset over something now

her go home," sa

onger, then. You mustn't go home with your eyes r

nd grave when he was not animated, and his smile occasioned a certain pleasant surprise. He was tall, and there was a boyish clumsiness

. "See how pleasant it

like a waveless green sea. A white road lay on the left, and a man was walking on it with a weary, halting gait; he carried a tin dinner-pail, which dipped and caught the western sunlight at every step. A cow lowed, and a pair

s I must go," said she. Her cheeks were

t maybe your aunt will think it's growing damp for

d again, and led her softly along. When they reach

're going to have real nice times here in Elliot." When they

I was jest goin' home. Well, what did

eal han

legant? Good-night. I'm goin' to have you an' your aunt come over

the road. She carried something bulky under her shawl, and she walked with

ur bundle, Aunt Jane?" Lois he

ed, hastily and peremptor

stern defiance and anxiety. She saw that her eyes were red, as if s

the minister called to invite him to offer a prayer. Mrs. Field felt it incumbent upon her now; if she had any reluctance, she did not yield to

sofa and went out of the room. She stole through her mother's into her own bedroom, and locked herself in as usual, then she lay down on her bed. She could hear the low rumble of the minister's voice for some time; then it ceased. She heard the chairs pushed back; then the minister's wife's voice in the gracious crescendo of parting; then the closing of the front door. Shortly afterward she heard a door open, and another voice, whi