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"I'll take a cup of tea, Phoebe, but I'm not a bit hungry," she said. "I ate just before I left town. How have you been, Phoebe?" "We been fine. We been so sorry for you " "Never mind that now, Phoebe. I'd rather not talk about it. Has anybody been here lately?" "Charlie Fox, he come las' week mebby week before las'. Marthy, she got rheumatis in her knee.
Downs confessed uneasily. "They don't look pleadin' an' childish same 's they used to. Seems to me as if she'd had the worst on't." "We ain't seen the end on't yit," said Mrs. Forder, impressively. "I feel it within me, Marthy Downs, an' it's a terrible thing to have happened right amon'st us in Christian times.
Then finally Uncle Joshuay he thundered at her the third time, 'Hain't it the truth, Sister Dalmanuthy, that the judgment and the curse of God has fell on you for your rebelliousness, like I prophesied, and that you hain't able to see John thar or Marthy thar or the hand thar before your face thar? when Aunt Dalmanuthy riz up sudden, and clinched her hands, and says slow and fierce: 'Man, it is the truth you speak.
She wrinkled her nose at him and turned back to unsaddle Blue. "I really didn't intend to go back right now," she said, "but seeing you've got your heart set on it, I suppose we might as well." Then she added: "We're only going as far as the Cove, anyway; and I really ought to hurry back to look after Marthy. Charlie Fox and Peter pulled out and left her there all solitary alone.
Women, when she tuck me to her bosom, I just slid right down thar on 'my unworthy knees thar on the ground at her feet thar, and with bitter tears beseeched of her to forgive and forgit my hard-heartedness and stone-blindness and dog-meanness, which of course, being Marthy, she had already done allus-ago.
Bartlett and Anna, who chafed her hands, gave her hot tea and thawed her back to life and gossip. "Is the Squire back yet?" asked Marthy with returning warmth. "Land sakes, what can be keeping him? Heard him say last night that he intended going away this morning, and thought he might have come back." "With news?" naively asked Sanderson. "Why, yes.
Lizzie, my wife, had always been powerful friendly with Marthy, Bill's wife; them two girls never met up but what they wuz huggin' an' kissin' an' carryin' on, like girls does; for women ain't like men they can't control theirselves an' their feelin's, like the stronger sext does.
Above the white marble mantelpiece, the old French mirror, one of the few good things left over from a public sale of Mrs. Carr's possessions, reflected a pair of bronze candelabra with crystal pendants, and a mahogany clock, which had kept excellent time for half a century and then had stopped suddenly one day while Marthy was cleaning.
"I was telling them 'bout the way she came here last June, pale as a ghost, and how she said her mother had just died and she'd been sick, and they knew right off who she was." Marthy loved few things as she did an interested audience. It was her meat and drink. "Well, she didn't call herself Moore in Belden, though that was her mother's name she called herself Lennox," Marthy grinned.
My goodness, but she'll be mad when she opens the cellar door and Jase ain't in there; I guess I'll go home early, before Marthy finds it out."
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