IS' NEWHALL!”
The tall, thin figure on the other side of the street pushed vigorously past. It held its black-bonneted head back stiffly, and strained its green and black woollen shawl tighter across its slim shoulders.
“Mis' Newhall!”
The figure stopped with a jerk. “Oh, it's you, Marthy. Pleasant afternoon, ain't it?”
“Ain't you comin' in?”
“Well, I don't jist see how I can this afternoon. I was goin' up to Ellen's.”
“Can't you jist come over a minute and see my calla-lilies?”
“Well, I don't see how I can. I can see 'em up to the window. Beautiful, ain't they?”
“You can't see nuthin' of 'em out Why can't you come in jist a minute? There ain't a soul been in to see 'em this week, and 'tain't often they blow out this way.”
“Who's in there?—anybody?”
“No; there ain't a soul but me to home. Hannah's gone over to Wayne. Can't you come in?”
“Well, I dunno but I'll come over jist a minute; but I can't stay. I hadn't ought to stop at all.”
Martha Wing waited for her in the door; she was quivering with impatience to show her the lilies. “Come right in,” she cried, when the visitor came up the walk.
When she turned to follow her in she limped painfully; one whole side seemed to succumb so nearly that it was barely rescued by a quick spring from the other.
“How's your lameness?” asked Mrs. Newhall.
Martha's soft withered face flushed. “Here air the lilies,” she said, shortly.
“My! ain't they beautiful!”
“'Tain't often you see seven lilies and two buds together.”
“Well, 'tain't, that's a fact. Ellen thought hers was pretty handsome, but it can't shake a stick to this. Hers ain't got but three on it. I'd like to know what you do to it, Marthy?”
“I don't do nuthin'. Flowers 'll grow for some folks, and that's all there is about it. I allers had jist sech luck.” Martha stood staring at the lilies. A self-gratulation that had something noble about it was in her smiling old face.
“I tell Hannah,” she went on, “if I be miser'ble in health, an' poor, flowers 'll blow for me, and that's more than they'll do for some folks, no matter how hard they try. Look at Mis' Walker over there. I can't help thinkin' of it sometimes when I see her go nippin' past with her ruffles and gimcracks. She's young an' good-lookin', but she's had her calla-lily five year, an' she 'ain't had but one bud, and that blasted.”
“Well, flowers is a good deal of company.”
“I guess they air. They're most as good as folks. Mis' Newhall, why don't Jennie come in an' see Hannah sometimes?”
All the lines in Mrs. Newhall's pale face lengthened. She looked harder at the callas. “Well, I dunno, Marthy; Jenny don't go much of anywhere. Those lilies are beautiful. You'd ought to have 'em carried into the meetin'-house next Sunday, an' set in front of the pulpit.”
Martha turned white. Her voice quavered up shrilly. “There's one lily I could mention 's been took out of that meetin'-house, Maria Newhall, an' there ain't no more of mine goin' to be took in, not if I know it.”
“Now, Marthy, vou know I didn't mean a thing. I no more dreamed of hurtin' your feelin's than the dead.”
“No, I don't s'pose you did; an' I don't s'pose your Jenny an' the other girls mean anything by stayin' away an' never comin' near Hannah. They act as if they was afraid of her; but I guess she wouldn't hurt 'em none. She's as good as any of 'em, an' they'll find it out some day.”
“Now, Marthy—”
“You needn't talk. I know all about it. I've heerd a good deal of palaver, but 1 kin see through it. I—”
“Well, I guess I'll have to be goin', Marthy. Good-afternoon.”
Martha suddenly recovered her dignity. “Good-afternoon, Mis' Newhall,” said she, and relapsed into silence.
After the door had closed behind her guest, she sat down at the window with her knitting. She had an old shawl over her shoulders; the room was very chilly. She pursed up her lips and knitted very fast, a lean, homely figure in the clean, bare room, with its bulging old satin-papered walls. A square of pale sunlight lay on the thin, dull carpet, and the pot of calla-lilies stood in the window.
Before long Hannah came. She entered without a word, and stood silently taking off her wraps.
“Did you git your pay, Hannah?”
“Yes.”