Читать книгу The Heart's Country - Mary Heaton Vorse - Страница 5

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When Mrs. Payne had been in our village less than a year and the interest of the village in the “do-less” sister of Miss Sarah had somewhat dwindled, it flamed up again. Mrs. Payne had a visitor, to our country eyes a splendid-looking, middle-aged gentleman. He put up at the little inn and called on Mrs. Payne and brought her such little trifles as a man might bestow upon a lady; sweets also he brought for Ellen, and a most elegant little needlecase with a gold thimble,—an incongruous gift, for since Ellen learned the use of the needle she had abhorred it; if she lived to-day she would have darned her stockings with a sail needle and dental floss. There went through the town, “He’s courting the widow,” for he came again and again, and in the mean time, according to the postmistress, there arrived letters and a package or two.

Concerning this episode Ellen writes:—

“I wish aunts were made of different stuff. When Aunt Sarah comes down here looking like a gorgon, I know that she has come to make my mother cry and I am very glad that I called her ‘old gorgon-face’ right before her one time, though it is a rude way to address one’s female relatives and I apologized to her afterwards, and now I think I will have to undo my apology because I feel so glad and happy every time I think I called her it. I couldn’t help hearing because I was in the next room, and anyway I didn’t mind if I did hear it. She said to my mother: ‘I suppose you’ve made up your mind already what to do about Mr. Dennett.’ ‘About Mr. Dennett?’ said my mother, and she sounded frightened,—she is much more frightened of my Aunt Sarah than I am. ‘Even you can’t be such a ninny,’ said my aunt, ‘as to think he comes here for nothing. A man of his age doesn’t come from Springfield for the purpose of an afternoon’s conversation.’ ‘I hadn’t faced it that way,’ said mamma. ‘Pooh! Pooh!’ said my aunt. ‘There’s a limit to even your folly; I hope you have planned to do the sensible thing and if you have not, you should save him the humiliation of declaring himself, which he’ll do now very soon, no doubt.’ ‘He pretended business brought him here,’ said my mother. ‘Business, indeed,’ said Aunt Sarah, and she made a noise like a snort, which if I made she would consider very rude. I wish there was one day a year when children could tell their aunts how rude they are at times, just as their aunts tell them every day in the week. ‘The business of courting is what he is about, and with an atom of honesty you must know it, and now I want to know what you are going to do.’ ‘It’s rather hard; I’m going to call Ellen,’ said my mother; and I had to move rather rapidly not to be found too near the door, which showed me that I was listening, which one ought never to do. ‘Ellen,’ said my mother; and my aunt then said a word which I am not allowed to say. ‘Squizzelty Betsey,’ said she, ‘what has Ellen to do with it?’ ‘I’m going to consult with Ellen’; and then, when I was in the room, ‘Ellen,’ she said, ‘your aunt seems to think that Mr. Dennett wishes to become a new father to you. How do you like this idea?’ ‘Would you have to keep house for him,’ I said, ‘the way you did for dear papa?’ ‘More so,’ said my mamma. ‘I don’t think we should be happy then,’ said I. At this Aunt Sarah rocked back and forth and she groaned as though her stomach hurt her. While my aunt was groaning, I could see my mother turn her back and I knew by her actions that she was putting her handkerchief to her mouth to keep from laughing, and which I have often seen her do when my aunt was here. ‘It made us both very nervous,’ I explained to her, ‘getting meals exactly on time and doing all the things that a man has a right to have perfect in his own house, which is what papa used to say, but we have not, since we’ve lived together, had to have anything perfect at all; we never think of meal-times or any other sad things.’ ‘Listen, Ellen,’ said my aunt; ‘you are almost more sensible and grown-up than your mother; your mother is still a young woman, a long life of loneliness confronts her,—more than that, a cramped financial situation. You’ll always have to go without and without and without. It would be from every point of view a dignified and suitable alliance and one which your mother should be happy to make and which any woman of her age and position and an atom of sense would do.’ Here my mother flung out her hand in the air as though she were throwing away something and were glad to do it. I wish I could see her do that again. ‘I respect him and I like him, and his liking for me touches me and flatters me, but oh! the running of a big house; but oh! the pent-up city streets.’ ‘And I say so, too,’ I cried. Then she suddenly drew me to her and stood me at arm’s length from her, and she said to me, ‘Ellen, promise me when you grow up, and when your blood shall leap high, and nothing happens in this little town, and when the world calls to you, that you won’t blame me.’ And my aunt said, ‘Don’t worry, Emily; plenty will always happen where Ellen is.’ I hugged and kissed her and promised hard. Now there will be no more presents, and no more bon-bons, for mother is going to shock him so he will not want to come again, which she thinks is a good way to save his vanity, but Aunt Sarah said: ‘Emily, you are incorrigible.’ But we are both, my mother and I, very sorry to lose our good friend. ‘Can’t men be friends with you,’ I asked, ‘without wanting to marry you?’ And my mother said, ‘It seems not, dear.’ But when I grow up it is going to be different with me.”