United States or Yemen ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Emarine hurried through the early winter dark until she came to the small and poor house where her husband's mother lived. It was off the main-travelled street. There was a dim light in the kitchen; the curtain had not been drawn. Emarine paused and looked in. The sash was lifted six inches, for the night was warm, and the sound of voices came to her at once. Mrs. Palmer had company.
"It's silly for anybody but children to build so much on Christmas." Emarine opened the door and walked in. Mrs. Palmer arose slowly, grasping the back of her chair. "Orville's dead?" she said solemnly. Emarine laughed, but there was the tenderness of near tears in her voice. "Oh, my, no!" she said, sitting down. "I run over to ask you to come to Christmas dinner.
Endey saw her coming. She gasped out, "Why, good grieve! Here's Mis' Parmer, Emarine!" "Yes, I know," said Emarine, calmly. "I ast her to dinner." She opened the door, and shook hands with her mother-in-law, giving her mother a look of defiance that almost upset that lady's gravity. "You set right down, Mother Parmer, an' let me take your things.
She was shivering. She wanted to fall down on her knees and put her arms around her son's wife, and sob out all her loneliness and heartache. But life is a stage; and Miss Presly was an audience not to be ignored. So Mrs. Palmer said: "Well, I'll be reel glad to come, Emarine. It's offul kind o' yuh to think of 't. It 'u'd 'a' be'n lonesome eatin' here all by myself, I expect." Emarine stood up.
After supper, when her mother had gone home for the night, Emarine put on her hat and shawl. Her husband was sitting by the fireplace, looking thoughtfully at the bed of coals. "I'm goin' out," she said briefly. "You keep the fire up." "Why, Emarine, it's dark. Don't choo want I sh'u'd go along?" "No; you keep the fire up."
I wish she hadn't got to lookin' so old an' pitiful, though, a-settin' there in front o' us in church Sunday after Sunday. The cords stand out in her neck like well-rope, an' her chin keeps a-quiv'rin' so! I can see Orville a-watchin' her " The door opened suddenly and her mother entered. She was bristling with curiosity. "Say, Emarine!" She lowered her voice, although there was no one to hear.
She was in the old splint rocking-chair with the high back. "Mother!" he cried; then he gave a frightened, tortured glance at his wife. Emarine smiled at him, but it was through tears. "Emarine ast me, Orville she ast me to dinner o' herself! An' she give me this shawl. I'm cryin' fer joy " "I ast her to dinner," said Emarine, "but she ain't ever goin' back again. She's goin' to stay.
She finished dusting, and returned to the kitchen. "I wonder what gran'ma Eliot 'u'd say if she knew you'd turned Orville's mother out, Emarine?" There was no reply. Emarine was at the table making tarts. Her back was to mother. "I didn't mean what I said about bein' sorry I egged you on, Emarine. I'm glad you turned her out. She'd ort to be turned out."
Why don't you answer me? Aigh?" "A little," said Emarine. She went into the pantry, and presently returned with a narrow strip of muslin which she wound around her finger. "Well, I never see! You never will learn any gumption! Why don't you look what you're about? Now, go around Christmas with your finger all tied up!" "Oh, that'll be all right by to-morrow," said Mrs. Eliot, cheerfully.
"Where d' you s'pose the undertaker's a-goin' up by here? Have you hear of anybody " "No," said Emarine. "Did Orville stop by an' tell you to hurry up?" "Yes. What's the matter of him? Is he sick?" "Not as I know of. Why?" "He looks so. Oh, I wonder if it's one o' the Peterson children where the undertaker's a-goin'! They've all got the quinsy sore throat." "How does he look?
Word Of The Day