Mrs. Hall rose and went to the window. Mrs. Markham was walking by the
house, her baby in her arms. Savage anger and weeping were in her eyes
and on her lips, and there was hopeless tragedy in her shambling walk
and weak back.
In the silence Otis went on: "I saw the poor, dejected creature twice
this morning. I couldn't forget her."
"Who is she?" asked Mrs. Hall, very softly.
"Her name is Markham; she's Sam Markham's wife," said Hall.
The young wife led the way into the sitting room, and the men took seats
and lit their cigars. Hall was meditating a diversion when Otis resumed
suddenly:
"That woman came to town to-day to get a change, to have a little
play-spell, and she's wandering around like a starved and weary cat. I
wonder if there is a woman in this town with sympathy enough and courage
enough to go out and help that woman? The saloon-keepers, the
politicians, and the grocers make it pleasant for the man--so pleasant
that he forgets his wife. But the wife is left without a word."
Mrs. Hall's work dropped, and on her pretty face was a look of pain. The
man's harsh words had wounded her--and wakened her. She took up her hat
and hurried out on the walk. The men looked at each other, and then the
husband said:
"It's going to be a little sultry for the men around these diggings.
Suppose we go out for a walk."
Delia felt a hand on her arm as she stood at the corner.
"You look tired, Mrs. Markham; won't you come in a little while? I'm
Mrs. Hall."
Mrs. Markham turned with a scowl on her face and a biting word on her
tongue, but something in the sweet, round little face of the other woman
silenced her, and her brow smoothed out.
"Thank you kindly, but it's most time to go home. I'm looking fer Mr.
Markham now."
"Oh, come in a little while, the baby is cross and tired out; please
do."
Mrs. Markham yielded to the friendly voice, and together the two women
reached the gate just as two men hurriedly turned the other corner.
"Let me relieve you," said Mrs. Hall.