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Look at this Arab lily; it is like a tongue of fire." "Where does she keep her flowers?" "In wire baskets, in her room. But I must go to make Arthur some gingerbread. He likes mine the best, and I like to please him." "I dare say you spoil him." "Just as you were spoiled." "Not in Barmouth, Aunt Merce." "No, not in Barmouth, Cassy." I went from room to room, seeing little to interest me.
Meanwhile my bonnet-strings got in a knot, which Fanny saw, and was about to apply scissors, when Aunt Merce, unable to bear the sacrifice, interfered and untied them, all present so interested in the operation that conversation was suspended. Presently Aunt Merce was called out, and was shortly followed by mother and Fanny.
She could not bear to catch a glimpse of the sea, nor to hear it; if she heard it echoing in the house, she played on her fife, or jewsharp, or asked Aunt Merce to sing some old song. But she liked the view from the north windows, even when the boughs were bare and the fields barren. When the grass came, she ordered handfuls to be brought her and put in saucers of water.
For all this a mad longing sometimes seized me to depart into a new world, which should contain no element of the old, least of all a reminiscence of what my experience had made me. Alice Morgeson sent for Aunt Merce, asking her to fulfill the promise she had made when she was in Rosville. With misgivings she went, stayed a month, and returned with Alice.
"I believe," said Veronica, "that Grand'ther Warren nearly crushed you and mother, when girls of our age. Did you know that you had any wants then? or dare to dream anything beside that he laid down for you?" Aunt Merce and mother exchanged glances. "Say, mother, what shall I do?" I asked again. "Do," she answered in a mechanical voice; "read the Bible, and sew more."
I turned and walked swiftly homeward, treading the ridges of white sand, the black drifts of sea-weed, as if they had been a smooth floor. Aunt Merce was at the door. "Now," she said, "we are going to have the long May storm. The gulls are flying round the lighthouse. How high the tide is! You must want your dinner. I wish you would see to Fanny; she is lording it over us all."
She would not stay in bed, and could not sit up, so father had a chair made for her, in which she could recline comfortably. Aunt Merce put her in it every morning, and took her out every evening. My presence irritated her, so I visited her but seldom.
But I had no assistance; Veronica thought that her share of my plans must consist of a diligent notice of all that I did, which she gave, and then went to her own life, kept sacredly apart. Fanny laughed in her sleeve and took another side the practical, and shone in it, becoming in fact the true manager and worker, while I played. Aunt Merce was helpless.
I thought then I would climb the high gateposts, which had a flat top, and take there the position of the little girl in "The Shawl Dance." I had no sooner taken it than Aunt Merce appeared at the door, and gave a shriek at the sight, which tempted me to jump toward her with extended arms. I was seized and carried into the house, where supper was administered, and I was put to bed.
A wall of darkness lies before her, which she will not penetrate. Aunt Merce sits near me with her knitting. When I look at her I think how long it is since mother went, and wonder whether death is not a welcome idea to those who have died. Aunt Merce looks at Verry and the child with a sorrowful countenance, exchanges a glance with me, shakes her head.
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