Part 45 (1/2)
”Didn't it? Well, you ought to 'a' thought of it before, and it'd all be done now. Here we've wasted all these months, and I've been pestered to death with 'em both. She's done more tattin' settin' in my sun parlor than'd trim all the petticoats in Brookvale. But, John, her heart is good and is kind of thawin' about the babies. I seen her a-givin' yards o' that stuff to Mary Allen the other day to trim her baby's dresses; and when little Isaac got most run over she got as white as a sheet and we both cried over him together, which kind of brought us closer. And if she marries Algernon, they'll have babies and she'll jest blossom right out.”
”You seem to be planning rather far ahead, aren't you?”
”No one has to be a prophet to say a preacher'll have babies. That's ginerally about all they do have.”
”It's your business, Drusilla; but I can't understand why you want these two very worthy people to marry--”
”Can't you see through a fence-post, John? If Sarah marries the Reverend Algernon, she'll have to move to Adams, and she'll keep him hoppin' around so fast that he won't git time to come visitin' me so often.”
”Oh, you are killing two birds with one stone!”
”Say it any way you want to, but they was made for each other, and I want to see Sarah married with a growin' family on her hands and then she won't have so much time to think and talk about her neighbors.
She does it jest because she ain't got nothin' else to do; but if she has to watch Johnny through the measles, and Lizzie through the mumps, and see that Willie's stockings is patched, she won't have time to tatt or tattle, and it'll make her a real woman, instead of jest an old maid. Is he comin' back tonight?”
”No; he has gone to his room.”
”Well, I didn't know I'd ever be sorry not to see Algernon, but I'd like to begin on him tonight when it's fresh in my mind, and I could put spirit in my work. What you goin' to do with him to-morrow?”
”We are goin' to go over again those last books on chivalry that I bought--”
”Now, you leave them old books go, and when you git him alongside of one of them iron men, that must 'a' had a derrick to heave him on his horse, come down to earth and talk about women. Point out that that man must 'a' had a wife to buckle all his straps, or somethin' like that, and then tell him how all men ought to be married. Show how you're a s.h.i.+nin' example of how a man looks that ain't had a wife to see that he don't spill egg on his s.h.i.+rt bosom or make him change his underclothes Sat.u.r.day night. Flatter him. Tell him he is a big, strong man--all little men like that--but tell him that no matter how strong a man is he ain't strong enough to put the studs in his own s.h.i.+rt--and so lead up to Sarah. You can do it, John, if you go about it right. Git him interested, and I'll take care of Sarah.”
”But it's a great risk, Drusilla. They might be so happy that they'd always be grateful and both want to come and visit you.”
Drusilla raised her hands and then dropped them in despair.
”The Lord forbid, John.”
”Don't you want them to be happy, Drusilla? If you don't think they would be, you hadn't better meddle in it.”
”Certainly, they'll be happy. Sarah's a good woman. Her milk of human kindness is a leetle bit curdled now and sets hard on her stomach, but marriage'll be the soda that'll clear it all up. And her husband won't have to put a tin mask on her face to keep from bein'
jealous, and she won't need to fear his gettin' in temptation, 'cause she won't let him come to the city alone long enough to git real busy huntin' it up. Sarah's jest the wife for a parsonage. She's turnin'
more and more to religion and preachers as she gits older, like a lot of women do when they find they're not excitin' enough to interest the other kind. Now, John, be careful what you say. A man is like a kitten--try to catch him and he'll run. Don't fling Sarah at his head --it'd be like flingin' a bone at a cat; jest chase him away instead of drawin' him to her. Now I'm goin' to telephone her and ask her to come over to-morrow, and I'll prepare the way. And you, John,” and Drusilla rose and shook her finger at him, ”now you be careful what you say, but _say_ it.”
The plan worked even better than Drusilla had hoped. Under Miss Lee's very evident admiration, the Reverend Algernon seemed to grow at least three inches in height, and his rather prosy compliments did not fall upon too critical nor blase' ears. Sarah blushed and fluttered and stammered as would any young girl with her first sweetheart. She even grew pretty; took to arranging her hair in a more becoming style and was particular about her dress. One morning she came over with a fluffy little gown that certainly took ten years from her age, and Drusilla looked at her in amazement. She confided to John: ”I've heard that women had an Indian Summer but Sarah's surely having her early spring. And, John, I always thought that courtin' was like cookin'--you had to learn by experience; but them two seem to take to it natural. It's makin' Sarah over, I tell you.
Why, I even heard her say that she thought Bessie Grey was pretty, and she used to say about any girl that was so pretty that a blind man'd have to admit it, 'Yes, she's pretty, but it is the kind that'll fade early.' Why, she ain't shot a poison arrow at n.o.body's good luck sense they met.”
”You seem to give them chance enough to see each other.”
”Yes; I want them to find out each other's beauties. I set up nights tryin' to find errands to send 'em together down town in the motor.
Take a man and a woman and put 'em close together, in a rich, soft motor car, with nice cus.h.i.+ons to lean against and a chauffeur who can't hear 'em, and something is hound to happen if they're human beings. And I git her to serve tea under the trees and let him see what a nice housewife she'd make, and how she'd show off to his women in the church. Do you notice she don't talk so much? jest sets quiet and smiles, which is wise of her, as she looks best that way. Why, she used to be like an electric fan buzzing away all day and fannin'
up nothin' but hot air. John, I feel I'm doin' some good in the world. If I keep on, it'll be a temptation to die just to read the epigraphs my friends'll write of me. But I ain't goin' to die fer a while; I'm goin' to set right down and go over them invitations we sent for the people who's comin' next week for my birthday. Dr. Eaton and me went over the house; it's all ready, and the children and the mothers'll move in on Monday.”
Drusilla was silent for a few moments. Then she reached over and took John's hand in her own.
”John, Wednesday I am seventy-two years old. And it's more'n fifty years sense you and me went walkin' down the lane together first. And you're here now beside me. You can always find some one to share your money and your joys, but you can't ask everybody to share your sorrows and your troubles; and it makes me feel a sort of peace and quiet to know that you'll always be near me, and if things that I've planned don't come out right, that I kin come to you and talk it over and you'll understand. Lots of people when they hear what I'm goin'