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"You have to manage Emarine by contrairies," she reflected. It did not occur to her that this was a family trait. "I'm offul sorry I ever egged her on to turnin' Orville's mother out o' doors, but who'd 'a' thought it 'u'd break her down so? She ain't told a soul either. I reckoned she'd talk somethin' offul about us, but she ain't told a soul.
He had promised Emarine solemnly before he married her, that if there were any "knuckling down" to be done, his mother should be the one to do it. He had made the promise deliberately, and he could no more have broken it than he could have changed the color of his eyes.
Seemed to me her'n looked kind o' rusty at church Sunday. Notice it, Emarine?" "No," said Emarine. "Seemed to me she was gittin' to look offul old. Emarine" his voice broke; he came a step nearer "it'll be the first Christmas dinner I ever eat without my mother." She drew back and looked at him. He knew the look that flashed into her eyes, and shrank from it.
I don't see 's he looks so turrable." "Why, Emarine Parmer! Ev'rybody in town says he looks so! I only hope they don't know what ails him!" "What does ail him?" cried out Emarine, fiercely. "What are you hintin' at?" "Well, if you don't know what ails him, you'd ort to; so I'll tell you. He's dyin' by inches ever sence you turned his mother out o' doors." Emarine turned white.
Emarine dropped a quivering ruby of jelly into a golden ring of pastry and laid it carefully on a plate. "Gran'ma Eliot can go talkin' about her daughter-'n-law Sidonie all she wants, Emarine. You keep a stiff upper lip." "I can 'tend to my own affairs," said Emarine, fiercely. "Well, don't flare up so. Here comes Orviile. Land, but he does look peakid!"
She was stirring something on the stove, holding her dress aside with one hand. "It's goin' to be a fine Christmas, Emarine," he said, and sighed unconsciously. There was a wistful and careworn look on his face. "Beautiful!" said Emarine vivaciously. "Goin' down-town, Orville?" "Yes." Want anything?" "Why, the cranberries ain't come yet. I'm so uneasy about 'em.
"I stopped at Orville's mother's as I come along, Emarine." "How?" Emarine turned in a startled way from the table. "I say I stopped at Orville's mother's as I come along." "Oh!" "She well?" asked Mrs. Endey. "No, she ain't; shakin' like she had the Saint Vitus dance. She's failed harrable lately. She'd b'en cryin'; her eyes was all swelled up." There was quite a silence. Then Mrs.
"Won't it, Emarine? Never cry over spilt milk, Mrs. Endey; it makes a body get wrinkles too fast. O' course Orville's mother's comin' to take dinner with you, Emarine." "Dear me!" exclaimed Emarine, in a sudden flutter. "I don't see why them cranberries don't come! I told Orville to hurry 'em up. I'd best make the floatin' island while I wait."
I'm gettin' cranky 's I get older, an' sometimes I'm reel cross an' sassy to her; but she jest laffs at me, an' then comes an' kisses me, an' I'm all right ag'in. It's a blessin' right from God to have a daughter-in-law like that." The knife in Emarine's hand slipped, and she uttered a little cry. "Hurt you?" demanded her mother, sternly. Emarine was silent, and did not turn. "Cut you, Emarine?
Fixin' fer Christmas dinner, Emarine dear?" "Yes, ma'am," said Emarine in her very gentlest tone. Her mother had never said "dear" to her, and the sound of it on this old lady's lips was sweet. "Won't you come an' take dinner with us?" The old lady laughed merrily. "Oh, dearie me, dearie me! You don't guess my son's folks could spare me now, do you? I spend ev'ry Christmas there.
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