Part 41 (1/2)

”But--”

”Now, let me talk. I like to talk, and when I git on the subject of love, though I ain't had much of it in my life except what I give myself, I know what it is, and I learnt that you mustn't pick it to pieces, any mor'n you'd pick that rose beside you to pieces and expect to have it keep its color and its smell. If you do that there ain't nothin' left in your hands but dead leaves. And, dear, don't look at it through a microscope; it'll make the little things look too big. Quarrel once in a while if you must, but don't criticize his kind of love. A person's love is his own kind, same as his nose--”

”Oh, we never quarrel. Robert is a perfect gentleman.”

”Now that's too bad. Perhaps if he wasn't such a gentleman, instead of goin' to his club when he was mad, he'd turn in and you'd have a real old-fas.h.i.+oned row, just like common people, and when the storm was pa.s.sed you'd have a chance to kiss and make up. Don't be too much of a lady, just be human and act like people, and things'll come out better. It's these awful polite people who grate on one, especially when you're mad!”

”I know I am not a good wife--I wish I were better--but my temperament--”

”Don't say it! I can't abide that word. It's only rich women who have temperament; in poor women it's just a nasty disposition. But, my dear, you are good enough. Don't try to be an angel--you'd bore your Robert to death. He'd rather see you with a pretty hat than a halo any day; and I know your kind, Mis' Carrington. You'll go into fits and have to be put to bed if your dress don't fit, but if your Robert lost his money, you'd give him your diamonds to sell so's to start him again--and I'm sure he knows it too.”

Mrs. Carrington was quiet for a few moments. Then she looked up with the tears glistening on her pretty lashes.

”Oh, Miss Doane, you do make me feel that we are going to be happy.

I am going to understand Robert better and he will understand me--”

”Don't worry about him understanding you. Don't think about your inside feelin's; just talk it all out with him. If he don't understand what you're thinkin', shake him and tell him he is stupid, and he'll laugh and you'll laugh--and then you'll kiss each other-- and then, where are you?”

Mrs. Carrington again was quiet. Drusilla watched her for a moment; then she rose and came over to her chair and, bending down, put her arms around the young shoulders.

”Dear, jest do this--so fill your heart with sweetness that there won't be room for the memory of any wrong.”

Mrs. Carrington reached up her hands and drew the kindly old face to hers and kissed the lips; and the tears that had been in her eyes rolled unheeded down her cheeks.

”Oh, Miss Doane, you are so good! I love you. We are going to begin all over again.”

”That's right, dear. Go to lookin' for the lost heart's desire and if you look in the right place you'll find it.”

As Drusilla was standing by the chair James entered, and, seeing Mrs. Carrington, started to leave the room. Drusilla turned.

”What is it, James?”

”It's no moment now, Miss Doane, the matter can wait.”

”Well, but what is it? Does some one want to see me?”

”Yes; the laundry man. I took the liberty of telling him that you might see him--”

”Is he in trouble, James?”

”Yes,” hesitatingly; ”and as I have known him for a great many years and know he is pretty straight and honest, I--as I said, ma'am--took the liberty of telling him you might see him, as you are so kind to so many that come here for help.”

”Ssh--ssh--James; you mustn't talk about it. Tell him to come up.”

Mrs. Carrington rose to go.

”No, don't go,” begged Drusilla. ”You know,” looking around the room, ”I'm just like a girl that's afraid of gettin' found out. I see a lot of people that I don't let Mr. Thornton know about. He tried to keep me from seein' any one who comes here in trouble, but I get around him. I see every one who comes. James has his orders from Mr.

Thornton to keep 'em out, and he has his orders from me to let 'em in, and he's more afeered of me than he is of Mr. Thornton.”

”But, my dear Miss Doane, I should think you would be worried to death.”