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Updated: June 14, 2025
Even at house-cleaning time, which Ma Mandle had always treated as a scourge, things were as smooth-running and peaceful as at ordinary times. Just a little bare, perhaps, as to floors, and smelling of cleanliness. Lil applied businesslike methods to the conduct of her house, and they were successful in spite of Ma Mandle's steady efforts to block them. Old lady Mandle did not mean to be cruel.
Old lady Mandle broke into sudden fury. "I guess you think I'm going to die! A picture to put on the piano after I'm gone, huh? 'That's my dear mother that's gone. Well, I don't have any picture taken. You can think of me the way I was when I was alive." The thing grew and swelled and took on bitterness as it progressed. Lil's face grew strangely flushed and little veins stood out on her temples.
"How do you like the blueberry pie, Hugo?" "'S all right." And declined a second piece. The third week he went West on business. When he came home he dropped his bag in the hall, strode into his mother's bedroom, and stood before her like a schoolboy. "Lil and I are going to be married," he said. Ma Mandle had looked up at him, her face a blank. "Lil?" "Sure. I told you all about her." He hadn't.
Now it was Lil who listened patiently to Ma Mandle's small grievances, and Hugo was left free to peruse the head-lines. If you had told Ma Mandle that she was doing her best to ruin the life of the one person she loved best in all the world she would have told you that you were insane. If you had told her that she was jealous she would have denied it, furiously. But both were true.
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