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Then she said the words over to them: "I ain't Esther Maxwell." She entered the sitting-room, the people following. There were her three old friends and neighbors, the minister and his wife, Daniel Tuxbury, his sister and her daughter, Mrs. Jane Maxwell and her daughter, and her own Lois. She faced them all and said it again: "I ain't Esther Maxwell."
"Mother," began Lois finally, in a desperate voice. But just then Mr. Tuxbury had reappeared, and conducted them to his parlor. The parlor had lace curtains and a Brussles carpet, and looked ornate to Mrs. Field and Lois. The chairs were covered with green plush. The two women sat timidly on the yielding cushions, and gazed during the pauses at the large flower pattern on the carpet.
"Yes, so I thought," said he, and went on flourishingly in his track of gracious reception. Lois kept her eyes fixed on his like some little timid animal which suspects an enemy, and watches his eyes for the first impetus of a spring. Once or twice she said, "Yes, sir," faintly. "Your niece does not look very strong," Mr. Tuxbury said to Mrs. Field. "She ain't been feelin' very well this spring.
"I suppose you'll come right over with me pretty soon," the old lady went on. "I don't want to hurry you in your business with Mr. Tuxbury, but I suppose my nephew will be home, and " "I'm jest as much obliged to you, but I guess I'd better not. I've made some other plans," said Mrs. Field. "Oh, we are going to keep Mrs. Maxwell with us to-night," interposed the lawyer.
Tuxbury would have helped the guests to beefsteak, and the rest of the family would have preferred the warmed-up veal stew. Or had the guests looked approvingly at the stew, the scanty portion of beefsteak would have satisfied the furthest desires of the family. But the perfect understanding among the adults did not extend to the two little girls.
There were many provisions in the pantry and cellar of the Maxwell house, but they would touch none of them. Some money which Mr. Tuxbury had paid to Mrs. Field the first instalment from the revenue of her estate she had put carefully away in a sugar-bowl on the top shelf of the china closet, and had not spent a penny of it.
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