“I do declare, ’twas like a scene in Scriptur’ to see that poor
good-hearted Nancy Fell run down her walk to open the gate for us!” said
Mrs. Persis Flagg later that afternoon, when she and Miss Pickett were
going home in the stage. Miss Pickett nodded her head approvingly.
“I had a good sight better time with her than I should have had at the
other place,” she said with fearless honesty. “If I’d been Mis’ Cap’n
Timms, I’d made some apology or just passed us the compliment. If it
wa’n’t convenient, why couldn’t she just tell us so after all her urgin’
and sayin’ how she should expect us?”
“I thought then she’d altered from what she used to be,” said Mrs.
Flagg. “She seemed real sincere an’ open away from home. If she wa’n’t
prepared to-day, ’twas easy enough to say so; we was reasonable folks,
an’ should have gone away with none but friendly feelin’s. We did have a
grand good time with Nancy. She was as happy to see us as if we’d been
queens.”
“’Twas a real nice little dinner,” said Miss Pickett gratefully. “I
thought I was goin’ to faint away just before we got to the house, and I
didn’t know how I should hold out if she undertook to do anything extra,
and keep us awaitin’; but there, she just made us welcome,
simple-hearted, to what she had. I never tasted such dandelion greens;
an’ that nice little piece o’ pork and new biscuit, why, they was just
splendid. She must have an excellent good cellar, if ’tis such a small
house. Her potatoes was truly remarkable for this time o’ year. I myself
don’t deem it necessary to cook potatoes when I’m goin’ to have
dandelion greens. Now, didn’t it put you in mind of that verse in the
Bible that says, ‘Better is a dinner of herbs where love is’? An’ how
desirous she’d been to see somebody that could tell her some particulars
about the conference!”
“She’ll enjoy tellin’ folks about our comin’ over to see her. Yes, I’m
glad we went; ’twill be of advantage every way, an’ our bein’ of the
same church an’ all, to Woodville. If Mis’ Timms hears of our bein’
there, she’ll see we had reason, an’ knew of a place to go. Well, I
needn’t have brought this old bag!”
Miss Pickett gave her companion a quick resentful glance, which was
followed by one of triumph directed at the dust that was collecting on
the shoulders of the best black cashmere; then she looked at the bag on
the front seat, and suddenly felt illuminated with the suspicion that
Mrs. Flagg had secretly made preparations to pass the night in Baxter.
The bag looked plump, as if it held much more than the pocket-book and
the jelly.
Mrs. Flagg looked up with unusual humility. “I did think about that
jelly,” she said, as if Miss Pickett had openly reproached her. “I was
afraid it might look as if I was tryin’ to pay Nancy for her kindness.”
“Well, I don’t know,” said Cynthia; “I guess she’d been pleased. She’d
thought you just brought her over a little present: but I don’ know as
’twould been any good to her after all; she’d thought so much of it,
comin’ from you, that she’d kep’ it till ’twas all candied.” But Mrs.
Flagg didn’t look exactly pleased by this unexpected compliment, and her
fellow-traveler colored with confusion and a sudden feeling that she had
shown undue forwardness.
Presently they remembered the Beckett house, to their great relief, and,
as they approached, Mrs. Flagg reached over and moved her handbag from
the front seat to make room for another passenger. But nobody came out
to stop the stage, and they saw the unexpected guest sitting by one of
the front windows comfortably swaying a palm-leaf fan, and rocking to
and fro in calm content. They shrank back into their corners, and tried
not to be seen. Mrs. Flagg’s face grew very red.
“She got in, didn’t she?” said Miss Pickett, snipping her words angrily,
as if her lips were scissors. Then she heard a call, and bent forward to
see Mrs. Beckett herself appear in the front doorway, very smiling and
eager to stop the stage.
The driver was only too ready to stop his horses. “Got a passenger for
me to carry back, ain’t ye?” said he facetiously. “Them ’s the kind I
like; carry both ways, make somethin’ on a double trip,” and he gave
Mrs. Flagg and Miss Pickett a friendly wink as he stepped down over the
wheel. Then he hurried toward the house, evidently in a hurry to put the
baggage on; but the expected passenger still sat rocking and fanning at
the window.
“No, sir; I ain’t got any passengers,” exclaimed Mrs. Beckett, advancing
a stop or two to meet him, and speaking very loud in her pleasant
excitement. “This lady that come this morning wants her large trunk with
her summer things that she left to the depot in Woodville. She’s very
desirous to git into it, so don’t you go an’ forgit; ain’t you got a
book or somethin’, Mr. Ma’sh? Don’t you forgit to make a note of it;
here’s her check, an’ we’ve kep’ the number in case you should mislay it
or anything. There’s things in the trunk she needs; you know how you
overlooked stoppin’ to the milliner’s for my bunnit last week.”
“Other folks disremembers things as well ’s me,” grumbled Mr. Marsh. He
turned to give the passengers another wink more familiar than the first,
but they wore an offended air, and were looking the other way. The
horses had backed a few steps, and the guest at the front window had
ceased the steady motion of her fan to make them a handsome bow, and
been puzzled at the lofty manner of their acknowledgment.
“Go ’long with your foolish jokes, John Ma’sh!” Mrs. Beckett said
cheerfully, as she turned away. She was a comfortable, hearty person,
whose appearance adjusted the beauties of hospitality. The driver
climbed to his seat, chuckling, and drove away with the dust flying
after the wheels.
“Now, she’s a friendly sort of a woman, that Mis’ Beckett,” said Mrs.
Flagg unexpectedly, after a few moments of silence, when she and her
friend had been unable to look at each other. “I really ought to call
over an’ see her some o’ these days, knowing her husband’s folks as well
as I used to, an’ visitin’ of ’em when I was a girl.” But Miss Pickett
made no answer.
“I expect it was all for the best, that woman’s comin’,” suggested Mrs.
Flagg again hopefully. “She looked like a willing person who would take
right hold. I guess Mis’ Beckett knows what she’s about, and must have
had her reasons. Perhaps she thought she’d chance it for a couple o’
weeks anyway, after the lady’d come so fur, an’ bein’ one o’ her own
denomination. Hayin’-time’ll be here before we know it. I think myself,
gen’rally speakin’, ’tis just as well to let anybody know you’re
comin’.”
“Them seemed to be Mis’ Cap’n Timms’s views,” said Miss Pickett in a low
tone; but the stage rattled a good deal, and Mrs. Flagg looked up
inquiringly, as if she had not heard.