"My gracious, won't Mis' Timms be pleased to see us! It 's just
exactly the day to have company. And ain't Baxter a sweet pretty
place?" said Mrs. Flagg, as they walked up the main street. "Cynthy
Pickett, now ain't you proper glad you come? I felt sort o' calm about
it part o' the time yesterday, but I ain't felt so like a girl for a
good while. I do believe I'm goin' to have a splendid time."
Miss Pickett glowed with equal pleasure as she paced along. She was
less expansive and enthusiastic than her companion, but now that they
were fairly in Baxter, she lent herself generously to the occasion.
The social distinction of going away to spend a day in company with
Mrs. Flagg was by no means small. She arranged the folds of her shawl
more carefully over her arm so as to show the pretty palm-leaf border,
and then looked up with great approval to the row of great maples that
shaded the broad sidewalk. "I wonder if we can't contrive to make time
to go an' see old Miss Nancy Fell?" she ventured to ask Mrs. Flagg.
"There ain't a great deal o' time before the stage goes at four
o'clock; 't will pass quickly, but I should hate to have her feel
hurt. If she was one we had visited often at home, I shouldn't care so
much, but such folks feel any little slight. She was a member of our
church; I think a good deal of that."
"Well, I hardly know what to say," faltered Mrs. Flagg coldly. "We
might just look in a minute; I shouldn't want her to feel hurt."
"She was one that always did her part, too," said Miss Pickett, more
boldly. "Mr. Cronin used to say that she was more generous with her
little than many was with their much. If she hadn't lived in a poor
part of the town, and so been occupied with a different kind of people
from us, 't would have made a difference. They say she's got a
comfortable little home over here, an' keeps house for a nephew. You
know she was to our meeting one Sunday last winter, and 'peared
dreadful glad to get back; folks seemed glad to see her, too. I don't
know as you were out."
"She always wore a friendly look," said Mrs. Flagg indulgently.
"There, now, there's Mis' Timms's residence; it's handsome, ain't it,
with them big spruce-trees. I expect she may be at the window now, an
see us as we come along. Is my bonnet on straight, an' everything? The
blinds looks open in the room this way; I guess she's to home fast
enough."
The friends quickened their steps, and with shining eyes and beating
hearts hastened forward. The slightest mists of uncertainty were now
cleared away; they gazed at the house with deepest pleasure; the visit
was about to begin.
They opened the front gate and went up the short walk, noticing the
pretty herring-bone pattern of the bricks, and as they stood on the
high steps Cynthia Pickett wondered whether she ought not to have worn
her best dress, even though there was lace at the neck and sleeves,
and she usually kept it for the most formal of tea-parties and
exceptional parish festivals. In her heart she commended Mrs. Flagg
for that familiarity with the ways of a wider social world which had
led her to wear the very best among her black cashmeres.
"She's a good while coming to the door," whispered Mrs. Flagg
presently. "Either she didn't see us, or else she's slipped upstairs
to make some change, an' is just goin' to let us ring again. I've done
it myself sometimes. I'm glad we come right over after her urgin' us
so; it seems more cordial than to keep her expectin' us. I expect
she'll urge us terribly to remain with her over-night."
"Oh, I ain't prepared," began Miss Pickett, but she looked pleased. At
that moment there was a slow withdrawal of the bolt inside, and a key
was turned, the front door opened, and Mrs. Timms stood before them
with a smile. Nobody stopped to think at that moment what kind of
smile it was.
"Why, if it ain't Mis' Flagg," she exclaimed politely, "an' Miss
Pickett too! I am surprised!"
The front entry behind her looked well furnished, but not exactly
hospitable; the stairs with their brass rods looked so clean and
bright that it did not seem as if anybody had ever gone up or come
down. A cat came purring out, but Mrs. Timms pushed her back with a
determined foot, and hastily closed the sitting-room door. Then Miss
Pickett let Mrs. Flagg precede her, as was becoming, and they went
into a darkened parlor, and found their way to some chairs, and seated
themselves solemnly.
"'Tis a beautiful day, ain't it?" said Mrs. Flagg, speaking first. "I
don't know's I ever enjoyed the ride more. We've been having a good
deal of rain since we saw you at the conference, and the country looks
beautiful."
"Did you leave Woodville this morning? I thought I hadn't heard you
was in town," replied Mrs. Timms formally. She was seated just a
little too far away to make things seem exactly pleasant. The darkness
of the best room seemed to retreat somewhat, and Miss Pickett looked
over by the door, where there was a pale gleam from the side-lights in
the hall, to try to see the pattern of the carpet; but her effort
failed.
"Yes, 'm," replied Mrs. Flagg to the question. "We left Woodville
about half past eight, but it is quite a ways from where we live to
where you take the stage. The stage does come slow, but you don't seem
to mind it such a beautiful day."
"Why, you must have come right to see me first!" said Mrs. Timms,
warming a little as the visit went on. "I hope you're going to make
some stop in town. I'm sure it was very polite of you to come right
an' see me; well, it's very pleasant, I declare. I wish you'd been in
Baxter last Sabbath; our minister did give us an elegant sermon on
faith an' works. He spoke of the conference, and gave his views on
some o' the questions that came up, at Friday evenin' meetin'; but I
felt tired after getting home, an' so I wasn't out. We feel very much
favored to have such a man amon'st us. He's building up the parish
very considerable. I understand the pew-rents come to thirty-six
dollars more this quarter than they did last."
"We also feel grateful in Woodville for our pastor's efforts," said
Miss Pickett; but Mrs. Timms turned her head away sharply, as if the
speech had been untimely, and trembling Miss Pickett had interrupted.
"They're thinking here of raisin' Mr. Barlow's salary another year,"
the hostess added; "a good many of the old parishioners have died off,
but every one feels to do what they can. Is there much interest among
the young people in Woodville, Mis' Flagg?"
"Considerable at this time, ma'am," answered Mrs. Flagg, without
enthusiasm, and she listened with unusual silence to the subsequent
fluent remarks of Mrs. Timms.
The parlor seemed to be undergoing the slow processes of a winter
dawn. After a while the three women could begin to see one another's
faces, which aided them somewhat in carrying on a serious and
impersonal conversation. There were a good many subjects to be touched
upon, and Mrs. Timms said everything that she should have said, except
to invite her visitors to walk upstairs and take off their bonnets.
Mrs. Flagg sat her parlor-chair as if it were a throne, and carried
her banner of self-possession as high as she knew how, but toward the
end of the call even she began to feel hurried.
"Won't you ladies take a glass of wine an' a piece of cake after your
ride?" inquired Mrs. Timms, with an air of hospitality that almost
concealed the fact that neither cake nor wine was anywhere to be seen;
but the ladies bowed and declined with particular elegance. Altogether
it was a visit of extreme propriety on both sides, and Mrs. Timms was
very pressing in her invitation that her guests should stay longer.
"Thank you, but we ought to be going," answered Mrs. Flagg, with a
little show of ostentation, and looking over her shoulder to be sure
that Miss Pickett had risen too. "We've got some little ways to go,"
she added with dignity. "We should be pleased to have you call an' see
us in case you have occasion to come to Woodville," and Miss Pickett
faintly seconded the invitation. It was in her heart to add, "Come any
day next week," but her courage did not rise so high as to make the
words audible. She looked as if she were ready to cry; her usual smile
had burnt itself out into gray ashes; there was a white, appealing
look about her mouth. As they emerged from the dim parlor and stood at
the open front door, the bright June day, the golden-green trees,
almost blinded their eyes. Mrs. Timms was more smiling and cordial
than ever.
"There, I ought to have thought to offer you fans; I am afraid you was
warm after walking," she exclaimed, as if to leave no stone of
courtesy unturned. "I have so enjoyed meeting you again, I wish it was
so you could stop longer. Why, Mis' Flagg, we haven't said one word
about old times when we lived to Longport. I've had news from there,
too, since I saw you; my brother's daughter-in-law was here to pass
the Sabbath after I returned."
Mrs. Flagg did not turn back to ask any questions as she stepped
stiffly away down the brick walk. Miss Pickett followed her, raising
the fringed parasol; they both made ceremonious little bows as they
shut the high white gate behind them. "Good-by," said Mrs. Timms
finally, as she stood in the door with her set smile; and as they
departed she came out and began to fasten up a rose-bush that climbed
a narrow white ladder by the steps.
"Oh, my goodness alive!" exclaimed Mrs. Flagg, after they had gone
some distance in aggrieved silence, "if I haven't gone and forgotten
my bag! I ain't goin' back, whatever happens. I expect she'll trip
over it in that dark room and break her neck!"
"I brought it; I noticed you'd forgotten it," said Miss Pickett
timidly, as if she hated to deprive her companion of even that slight
consolation.
"There, I'll tell you what we'd better do," said Mrs. Flagg gallantly;
"we'll go right over an' see poor old Miss Nancy Fell; 't will please
her about to death. We can say we felt like goin' somewhere to-day,
an' 't was a good many years since either one of us had seen Baxter,
so we come just for the ride, an' to make a few calls. She'll like to
hear all about the conference; Miss Fell was always one that took a
real interest in religious matters."
Miss Pickett brightened, and they quickened their step. It was nearly
twelve o'clock, they had breakfasted early, and now felt as if they
had eaten nothing since they were grown up. An awful feeling of
tiredness and uncertainty settled down upon their once buoyant
spirits.
"I can forgive a person," said Mrs. Flagg, once, as if she were
speaking to herself; "I can forgive a person, but when I'm done with
'em, I'm done."