Part 9 (1/2)
”The Howes'!” Ellen fairly hissed the name. ”You went to the _Howes'_ for eggs?”
”Why not?”
With a swift motion her aunt strode forward and s.n.a.t.c.hed the box from Lucy's light grasp.
”You went to the Howes--to the Howes--an' told 'em I didn't give you enough to eat?”
Livid, the woman crowded nearer, clutching the girl's arm in a fierce, merciless grip; her blue eyes flashed, and her lips trembled with anger.
”I didn't say you didn't give me enough to eat,” explained Lucy, trying unsuccessfully to draw away from the cruel fingers that held her.
”What did you tell 'em?”
”I just said you couldn't spare any eggs for us to use.”
”Spare eggs! I can spare all the eggs I like,” Ellen retorted. ”I ain't a pauper. If I chose I could eat every egg there is in that pantry.” She shook her niece viciously. ”I only sell my eggs 'cause I'd rather,” she went on.
”I thought you said we couldn't afford to have eggs when they where so high,” explained Lucy. ”You said they were sixty-six cents a dozen.”
”I could afford to eat 'em if they was a dollar,” interrupted Ellen, her voice rising. ”If they were two dollars!”
”I didn't understand.”
”'Tain't your business to understand,” snapped her aunt. ”Your business is to do as I say. Think of your goin' to the Howes--to the Howes of all people--an' askin' for eggs! It'll be nuts for them. _The Howes._” The circling fingers loosened weakly.
”I wonder,” she continued, ”the Howes sold you any eggs. They wouldn't 'a'
done it, you may be sure, but to spite me. I reckon they were only too glad to take the chance you offered 'em.”
”They weren't glad,” protested Lucy indignantly. ”They didn't want to sell the eggs at all, at least two of them didn't; but the one called Jane insisted on letting me have them.”
”What'd they say?”
”I couldn't understand,” Lucy replied. ”They seemed to be afraid of displeasing somebody called Martin. They said he wouldn't like it.”
”Martin wouldn't, eh?” Ellen gave a disagreeable chuckle. ”They're right there. Martin won't like it. They'll be lucky if he doesn't flay them alive for' doin' it.”
”But why, Aunt Ellen? Why?” inquired Lucy.
”Because the Howes hate us, root an' branch; because they've injured an'
insulted us for generations, an' are keepin' right on injurin' an'
insultin' us. That's why!” Ellen's wrath, which had waned a little, again rose to a white heat. ”Because they'd go any length to do us harm--every one of 'em.” Again the grip on Lucy's arm tightened painfully.
Dragging the girl to the window the old woman cried:
”Do you see that pile of stones over there? That's the wall the Howes built years an' years ago--built because of the grudge they bore the Websters, likely. Did you ever look on such an eyesore?”
”Why don't they fix it?” asked Lucy naively.
”Yes, why don't they? You may well ask that!” returned Ellen with scathing bitterness. ”Why don't they? Because they're too mean an' stingy--that's why. Because they think that by lettin' it go to ruin an' makin' my place look like a dump heap, they can drive me to spend my money to do it, so'st they can save theirs. Because they're such lyin', deceitful critters they actually pretend the wall don't belong to 'em anyhow--that it's mine!