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Updated: June 29, 2025
Then he walked up to the porch and touched the scarlet paint with his finger and remarked: "Set harder than a rock, by gum! She must have used a whole lot of dryer. I'll get even with her for this. See if I don't." In the afternoon Jonathan brought over some fine apples and presented them to Hepsey, who was knitting on her side porch.
"I'm sure that was real thoughtful of you, Mrs. Loomis," Hepsey replied. "What have you got?" "Well," Mrs. Loomis responded, "I thought I'd bring 'em two pans of my nice fresh soda biscuit." Mrs. Burke kept her face straight, and responded cheerfully: "That was awful nice of you, Mrs. Loomis." "Oh, that's all right. And if you want any more, just let me know."
Ruth had always had a dim yearning for foreign travel, but just now she felt no latent injustice, such as had often rankled in her soul when her friends went and she remained at home. Thinking she heard Hepsey in the hall, and not caring to arouse further suspicion, she put out her light and sat by the window, with the shutters wide open.
She was angry with Hepsey, she hated Winfield, and despised herself. She picked up a scrap of paper which lay on a glove, and caught a glimpse of unfamiliar penmanship. It was apparently the end of a letter, and the rest of it was gone. "At Gibraltar for some time," she read, "keeping a shop, but will probably be found now in some small town on the coast of Italy. Very truly yours."
She doesn't look like the candy fiends, and I imagine she'd pitch a box of chocolates into the sad sea, or give it to Hepsey. There's nothing left but flowers and I suppose she wouldn't notice'em. "A man would have to teach her to like him, and, on my soul, I don't know how he'd do that.
The doors were open, but there was no trace of Hepsey. She put the roses in her water pitcher, and locked her door upon them as one hides a sacred joy. She went out again, her heart swelling like the throat of a singing bird, and walked to the brow of the cliff, with every sense keenly alive. Upon the surface of the ocean lay that deep, translucent blue which only Tadema has dared to paint.
Hepsey did not respond to this philosophy, and Jonathan felt that it was high time that he got down to business. So he began again: "It seems to me as if we might have rain before long if the wind don't change." "Shouldn't be surprised, Jonathan. One two three four " Mrs. Burke replied, her attention divided between her visitor and her sweater. "Got your hay all in?" "Yes, most of it.
In the few words, softened, and betraying a quaint stateliness, Ruth caught a glimpse of an old-fashioned gentlewoman, reserved and yet gracious. She folded her napkin, saying: "You make the best biscuits I ever tasted, Hepsey." The girl smiled, but made no reply. "What makes you think Miss Ainslie has anything to do with the light?" she inquired after a little.
By an elaborate mental process, she convinced herself that the cedar chest and the old trunks did not concern her in the least, and tried to develop a feminine fear of mice, which was not natural to her. She had just placed herself loftily above all mundane things, when Hepsey marched into the room, and placed the attic lamp, newly filled, upon the marble table.
The retired sailor ate heartily, casting occasional admiring glances at Ruth and Hepsey. It was the innocent approval which age bestows upon youth. "These be the finest biscuit," he said, "that I've had for many a day. I reckon you made 'em, didn't you, young woman?" "Yes, sir," replied Hepsey, twisting her apron. The bride was touched in a vulnerable spot.
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