Jane Field Part 25

She went to the door with her guests. Mrs. Babc.o.c.k spread her green umbrella, and descended the steps with a stiff side-wise motion.

"It is hotter than ever, I do believe," she groaned.

"Well, now, I was jest thinkin' it was a little grain cooler,"

returned Mrs. Green, following in her wake. Her back was meekly bent; her face, shaded by a black sun-hat, was thrust forward with patient persistency. "There, I feel a little breeze now," she added.

"I guess all the breeze there is, is in your own motion," retorted Mrs. Babc.o.c.k. Her green umbrella bobbed energetically. She fanned at every step.

"Mebbe it's your fan," said the other woman.

Amanda went into the house and shut the door. She stood in the middle of the parlor and looked around. There was a certain amaze in her eyes, as if everything wore a new aspect. "They can talk all they've a mind to," she muttered, "it's a great undertakin'. S'pose anything happened? If anything happened to them whilst they were gone, there's folks enough to home to see to things. S'pose anything happened to me, there ain't anybody. If I go, I've got to leave this house jest so. I've got to be sure the bureau drawers are all packed up, an'

things swept an' dusted, so folks won't make remarks. There's other things, too. Everything's got to be thought of. There's the cat. I s'pose I could get Abby Green to come over an' feed her, but I da.s.sen't trust her. Young girls ain't to be depended on. Ten chances to one she'd get to carryin' on with that Fay girl an' forgit all about that cat. She won't lap her milk out of anything but a clean saucer, neither, and I don't believe Abby would look out for that.

She always seemed to me kind of heedless. I dunno about the whole of it."

Amanda shook her head; her eyes were dilated; there was an anxious and eager expression in her face. She went into the kitchen, kindled the fire, and made herself a cup of tea, which she drank absently.

She could not eat anything.

The cat came mewing at the door, and she let her in and fed her. "I dunno how she'd manage," she said, as she watched her lap the milk from the clean saucer beside the cooking-stove.

After she had put away the cat's saucer and her own tea-cup, she stood hesitating.

"Well, I don't care," said she, in a decisive tone; "I'm goin' to do it. It's got to be done, anyhow, whether I go or not. It's been on my mind for some time."

Amanda got out her best black dress from the closet, and sat down to alter the shoulder seams. "I don't care nothin' about this muslin sacque," said she, "but I ain't goin' to have Mis' Babc.o.c.k measurin'

my shoulder seams every single minute if I do go, an' they may be real dressy down where Mis' Field is."

Amanda sewed until ten o'clock; then she went to bed, but she slept little. She was up early the next morning. Adoniram Babc.o.c.k came over about eight o'clock; the windows and blinds were all flung wide open, the braided rugs lay out in the yard. He put his gentle grizzled face in at one of the windows. There was a dusty odor. Amanda was sweeping vigorously, with a white handkerchief tied over her head. Her delicate face was all of a deep pink color.

"Ann Lizy sent over to see if you'd made up your mind," said Adoniram.

Amanda started. "Good-mornin', Mr. Babc.o.c.k. Yes, you can tell her I have. I'm a-goin'."

There was a reckless defiance of faith in Amanda's voice. She had a wild air as she stood there with the broom in a faint swirl of dust.

"Well, Ann Lizy'll be glad you've made up your mind to. She's gone to bakin'," said the old man in the window.

"I've got to bake some, too," said Amanda. She began sweeping again.

"I've jest been over to Mis' Green's, an' she says she's goin' if you do," said Mr. Babc.o.c.k.

"Well, you tell her I'm goin'," said Amanda, with a long breath.

"I guess you'll have a good time," said the old man, turning away. "I tell Ann Lizy she can stay a month if she wants to. Me an' the boys can git along." He laughed a pleasant chuckle as he went off.

Amanda glanced after him. "I shouldn't care if I had a man to leave to look after the house," said she.

Amanda toiled all day; she swept and dusted every room in her little domicile. She put all her bureau drawers and closets in exquisite order. She did not neglect even the cellar and the garret. Mrs.

Babc.o.c.k, looking in at night, found her rolling out sugar gingerbread.

"For the land sakes, Mandy!" said she, "what are you cookin' by lamp-light for this awful hot night?"

"I'm makin' a little short gingerbread for luncheon."

"I don't see what you left it till this time of day for. What you got them irons on the stove for?"

"I've got to iron my muslin sacque. I've got it all washed and starched."

"Ironin' this time of day! I'd like to know what you've been doin'

ever since you got up?"

"I've been getting everything in order, in case anything happened,"

replied Amanda. She tried to speak with cool composure, but her voice trembled. Her dignity failed her in this unwonted excitement.

"What's goin' to happen, for the land sake?" cried Mrs. Babc.o.c.k.

"I dunno. None of us know. Things do happen sometimes."

Mrs. Babc.o.c.k stared at her, half in contempt, half in alarm. "I hope you ain't had no forewarnin' that you ain't goin' to live nor anything," said she. "If you have, I should think you'd better stay to home."

"I ain't had no more forewarnin' than anybody," said Amanda. "All is, there ain't n.o.body in the other part of the house. The Simmonses all went yesterday to make a visit at her mother's, and in case anything should happen, I'm goin' to leave things lookin' so I'm willin'

anybody should see 'em."

"Well," said Mrs. Babc.o.c.k, "I guess you couldn't leave things so you'd be willin' anybody'd see 'em if you had three men folks afoul of 'em for three days. I've got to be goin' if I git up for that four-o'clock train in the mornin'. I've made fifteen pies an' five loaves of bread, besides bakin' beans, to say nothin' of a great panful of doughnuts an' some cake. I ain't been up garret nor down cellar cleanin', an' if anything happens to me, I s'pose folks'll see some dust and cobwebs, but I've done considerable. Adoniram's goin'

to take us all down in the covered wagon; he'll be round about half-past four."

Amanda lighted Mrs. Babc.o.c.k out the front door; then she returned to her tasks. She did not go to bed that night. She had put her bedroom in perfect order, and would not disturb it. She lay down on her hard parlor sofa awhile, but she slept very little. At two o'clock she kindled a fire, made some tea, and cooked an egg for her breakfast.

Then she arrayed herself in her best dress. She was all ready, her bag and basket of luncheon packed and her bonnet on, at three o'clock. She sat down and folded her hands to wait, but presently started up. "I'm going to do it," said she. "I don't care, I am. I can't feel easy unless I do."

She got some writing-paper and pen and ink from the chimney cupboard and sat down at the table. She wrote rapidly, her lips pursed, her head to one side. Then she folded the paper, wrote on the outside, and arranged it conspicuously on the top of a leather-covered Bible on the centre of the table. "There!" said she. "It ain't regular, I s'pose, an' I ain't had any lawyer, but I guess they'd carry out my wishes if anything happened to me. I ain't got n.o.body but Cousin Rhoda Hill, an' Cousin Maria Bennet; an' Rhoda don't need a cent, an'

Maria'd ought to have it all. This house will make her real comfortable, an' my clothes will fit her. I s'pose I'd have this dress on, but my black alpaca's pretty good. I s'pose Mis' Babc.o.c.k would laugh, but I feel a good deal easier about goin'."

Amanda waited again; she blew out her lamp, for the early dawnlight strengthened. She listened intently for wheels, and looked anxiously at the clock. "It would be dreadful if we got left, after all," she said.

Suddenly the covered wagon came in sight; the white horse trotted at a good pace. Adoniram held the reins and his wife sat beside him.

Mrs. Green peered out from the back seat. "Mandy! Mandy!" Mrs.

Babc.o.c.k called, before they reached the gate. But Amanda was already on the front door-step, fitting the key in the lock.

"I'm all ready," she answered, "jest as soon as I can get the door locked."

"We ain't got any too much time," cried Mrs. Babc.o.c.k.

Amanda went down the path with her basket and black valise and parasol. Adoniram got out and helped her into the wagon. She had to climb over the front seat. As they drove off she leaned out and gazed back at the house. Her tortoise-sh.e.l.l cat was coming around the corner. "I do hope the cat will get along all right," she said agitatedly. "I've fed her this mornin', an' I've left her enough milk till I get back--a saucerful for each day--an' Abby said she'd give her all the sc.r.a.ps off the table, you know, Mis' Green."

Mrs. Babc.o.c.k turned around. "Now, Amanda Pratt," said she, "I'd like to know how in creation you've left a saucerful of milk for that cat for every day till you get back."

"I set ten saucers full of milk down cellar," replied Amanda, still staring back anxiously at the cat--"one for each day. I got extra milk last night on purpose. She likes it jest as well if it's sour, if the saucer's clean."

Amanda looked up with serious wonder at Mrs. Babc.o.c.k, who was laughing shrilly. Mrs. Green, too, was smiling, and Adoniram chuckled.