Phoebe Deane (22 page)

" What a queer girl you are!" exclaimed Emmeline, much vexed; " I should think you'd see he's takin' all this interest in things jest fer you. It ain't like him to care for such things. He just thinks it will please you, and you are hard as nails not to 'predate it."

" You are quite mistaken, Emmeline. Hiram Green never did anything to please any one but himself, I am sure," answered Phoebe, and taking her apron off went up to her room.

Phoebe was spending much more time in her room in these days than pleased Emmeline. Not that her work suffered, for Phoebe's swift fingers performed all the tasks required of her in the most approved manner, but so soon as they were done she was off. The fact that the room was cold seemed to affect her in no wise. Emmeline was in a state of chronic rage for this isolation from the rest of the family, though perhaps the only reason she liked to have her around was that she might make sarcastic remarks about her. Then, too, it seemed like an assumption of superiority on Phoebe's part. Emmeline could not bear superiority.

Phoebe's reason for hurrying to the seclusion of her own room on every possible occasion was that a new source of comfort and pleasure had been open to her through the kindness of Marcia Spafford. Miranda had reported promptly Phoebe's two escapes from Hiram Green and not only Marcia but David was greatly interested in the sweet-faced young girl. Shortly after the occasion of Alma's unexpected punishment Miranda was sent up to the Deanes to request that Phoebe come down for the afternoon a little while, as " Mis' Spafford has a new book she thinks you'll enjoy readin' with her awhile." Much to Emmeline's disgust, for she had planned a far different occupation for Phoebe, the girl accepted with alacrity, and was soon seated in the pleasant library poring over one of Whittier's poems which opened up a new world to her. The poem was one which David had just secured to publish in his paper, and they discussed its beauties for a few minutes, and then Marcia opened a delightful new book by Cooper.

Phoebe had naturally a bright mind, and during her days of school she had studied all that came in her way. Always she had stood at the head of her classes, sometimes getting up at the first peep of dawn to study a lesson or work over a problem, and sticking to her books until the very last minute. This had been a great source of trouble, because Emmeline objected most seriously to "taking her education so hard," as she expressed it. " Some children have measles and whooping-cough and chicken-pox and mumps real hard," she was wont to say, "but they most of 'em take learnin' easy. But Phoebe's got learnin' hard. She acts like there wasn't any use fer anything else in the world but them books. Land! What good'll they do her? They won't make her spin a smoother thread, 'er quilt a straighter row, 'er sew a finer seam. She'll jest forget everything she learnt when she's married. I'm sure I did." And no one ever disputed this convincing fact.

Nevertheless Phoebe had studied on, trying it is true to please Emmeline by doing all the work required of her, but still insisting on getting her lessons even if it deprived her of her rest, or her noon luncheon. She had acquired the habit of devouring every bit of information that came in her way, so that in spite of her environments she had a measure of true mind culture. It may have been this which so mystified and annoyed Emmeline.

So the afternoon was one of unalloyed delight to Phoebe. When she insisted that she must go home to help get supper, Miranda was sent with her, and the precious book went along to be read in odd moments. Since then Phoebe felt she had something to help her through the trying days.

These afternoons of reading with Marcia Spafford had become quite the settled thing every week or two, and always there was a book to carry home, or a new poem or article to think about.

Emmeline had grown wrathful about this constant going out, and had asked questions until she had in a measure discovered what was going on. She held her temper in for a while, for when she spoke to Albert he did not seem to sympathize with her irritation at Phoebe, but only asked the girl to let him see the book she had been reading, and became so delighted with it himself that he forgot to bring in the armful of wood Emmeline asked for until she called him the second time. After that Albert shared in the literary treasures that Phoebe brought to the house, and it became his habit to say when he came in to supper: " Been down to the village this afternoon, Phoebe? Didn't get anything new to read, did you ?" This made Emmeline fairly furious, and she decided to express her mind once more freely to the girl.

She chose a morning when Phoebe was tied by a task which she could not well leave, and began:

" Now look here, Phoebe Deane, I must say you are goin' beyond all bounds. I think it's about time you stopped. I want you to understand that I think the way you're actin' is a downright sin. It isn't enough that you should scorn a good honest man that's eatin' his heart out fer yeh, an' you payin' no more 'tention to him 'n if he was the very dust o' your feet, an' him able to keep you well, too; an' you willin' to set round an' live on relations that ain't real relations at all; an' you with money in th'

bank a-plenty, an' never even offerin' to give so much as a little present to your little nephews and nieces that are all you've got in the world. It ain't enough that you should do all that, an' be a drug on our hands, but here you must go an' get up a 'quaintance with a woman I don't like n'er respect at all, an' let her send that poor, hard-workin', good- fer-nothin', red-headed girl after you every few days 'a takin' you away from your home, an' your good honest work that you ought to be willin' to do twice over fer all you've had. Phoebe Deane, d' you realize thet we let you go to school clear up to the top grade when other girls hed to stop an' go to work? It was all his doin's, I'd never hev allowed it. I think it jest spoils a girl to get so much knowledge. It's jest as I said 'twould be, too. Look at you! Spoiled. You want lily-white hands an' nothin' to do. You want to go to everlastin' tea-parties an' bring home books to read the rest o' the time. Now I stopped school when I was in the fourth reader 'n look at me. There ain't a woman round is better fixed 'n what I am. What do I need of more books? Answer that, Phoebe Deane! Answer me! Would it make me darn the children's stockin's, er cook his meals, er spin, er weave better, er would it make me any better anyway? Answer me ? "

Emmeline had two bright red spots on her cheeks and she was very angry. When she was angry she always screamed her sentences at her opponent in a high key. Phoebe had the impulse to throw the wet dish-cloth at her sister-in-law, and it was hard indeed to restrain her indignation at this speech. There was the lovely Mrs. Spafford lending her books and helping her and encouraging her in every way to improve her mind by reading and study, and even Mr. Spafford seemed anxious she should have all the books to read that she desired; and here was this woman talking this way! It was beyond speech. There was nothing to say.

Emmaeline stepped up close to the girl, grasped her white arm and shook it fiercely until the dish-cloth came near doing a rash deed of its own accord.

" Answer me! " she hissed in the girl's face.

" It might—" The exasperated girl hesitated. What good would it do to say it?

" Well, go on," said the woman, gripping the arm painfully. " You've got some wicked word to say, just speak it out to the one that hes been more than mother to ye, an' then I s'pose you'll feel better."

" I was only going to say, Emmeline, that more study might have made you understand others better."

" Understand! Understand! " screamed Emmeline, now thoroughly roused. " I should like to know who I don't understand ! Don't I understand my husband an' my children, and my neighbors ? I s'pose you mean understand you, you good-fer-nothin' hussy! Well, that ain't necessary! You're so different from everybody else on earth that an angel from heaven and a professor from college couldn't understand you, an' learnin' won't make you any different, no matter how much time you waste on it."

" Emmeline, listen!" said Phoebe, trying to stop this outburst; "I consider that I've worked for my board since I came here "

" Consider! Consider! You consider! Well, really! Worked for your board, when you was scarcely more use 'n a baby when you come, an' think o' all the trouble o' raisin' ye! And you consider that you've earned all you've got here! Well, I don't consider any such a thing, I ken tell you."

" Please let me finish, Emmeline. I was going to say that I have tried to make Albert take the money I have in the bank as payment for any expense and trouble I have been to him, but he says he promised my mother he wouldn't touch a cent of it, and he will not take it."

" Oh, yes, Albert is soft-hearted. Well, I didn't promise yer ma, by a long sight, an' I ain't bound to no such fool notions."

" Emmeline, I don't feel that the money belongs to you. It was not you who brought me here, nor paid for whatever I have had. It was Albert. I cannot see why I should give you the money. You have done nothing for me but what you have had to do, and I am sure I have worked for you enough to pay for that, but I would much rather give the money to you than to have you talk in this way "

" Oh, I wasn't askin' fer yer money. I wouldn't take it es a gift. I was only showin' yeh up to yourself, what a selfish good-fer-nothin' you are, settin' up airs to read books when there's good honest work goin' on."

It happened that Albert came in just then and the discussion dropped, but Phoebe with determined mien went on with her visits to Mrs. Spafford whenever Miranda came for her—never alone, lest she encounter Hiram Green—and so the winter dragged slowly on its way.

CHAPTER XVII

Meanwhile Hiram Green still kept up his attention to the post-office, watching the Deanes so vigilantly that it was impossible for them to receive mail without his knowing it. This never annoyed Albert, as he was too good-natured to suspect any one of an ill turn, and he thought it exceedingly kind of Hiram to bring his mail up. As for Phoebe, it simply cut out all opportunity for her to go out, except when Miranda came for her.

" Why can't that Mirandy girl stay home an' mind her business an' let you come when you get ready?" asked Emmeline, in a loud tone, one day when Miranda was waiting in the sitting-room for Phoebe to get ready to go with her. " She acts if she was your nurse."

But Miranda continued her vigilance, and that without Phoebe's asking, and somehow Marcia always planned it that if Phoebe could stay to tea she and David would walk home with her. It was all delightful for Phoebe, but everything that was done merely offended Emmeline the more.

Miranda, in these days, was enjoying herself. She lost no opportunity to observe the detestable Hiram and rejoice that she had foiled his attempts to bother Phoebe. One day, however, she happened to be in the post-office when the mail was distributed. She was buying sugar, and she loitered a moment after the package was handed her, watching Hiram Green, who had slouched over to the counter and asked for his mail.

" Nothin' fer the Deanes ? " she heard him ask in a low tone. " Nothin' fer Phoebe ? She was 'spectin' somethin' I'm sure."

Miranda cast a sharp glance at him as she passed him. She was glad somehow that he received nothing. She wondered if Phoebe knew he was enquiring for her mail. Miranda laid it by in her mind as something that might be of use in future, and went on her way.

That very day the old woman who kept house for Hiram, in sweeping out his room, came across a bit of red sealing- wax stamped with part of a crest which bore a lion's head with the jaws apart. It was lying on a dark stripe in the rag carpet and had not been noticed before. She saw at once it was of no value and tossed it toward the open window, where it lodged upon the sill close up to the frame, and by and by when the window was closed it was shut in tight between sash and sill, the lion's head, erect and fierce, caught in the crack, a tiny thing and hidden, but reminding one of "truth crushed to earth."

The next day Nathaniel Graham made a flying visit to his home to have a serious conference with his uncle the Judge. His investigations concerning the two questions which had troubled him on his journey back to New York had involved him in matters that had now come to a crisis, and he found that some decision must be reached at once. He had received several more letters from his uncle in Texas, urging him persistently to come down at once and help their cause. More and more it was becoming a dangerous thing to do, as Congress had not sanctioned any such help, and in fact it might involve any one who attempted it in serious difficulties. Yet it was being done every day. People who lived near to Texas were gathering money and arms, and sending men to help, and even so far as New York there were many quietly at work. Public sentiment was strongly with Texas, save only among those who were opposed to slavery, and as yet that question was but in its infancy. Nathaniel had been put to it at last to decide definitely about Texas. He had been offered command of a company of men who were to sail soon, and he must say yes or no at once. The pressure was very strong, and sometimes he almost thought he ought to go. The time had come to speak to Judge Bristol. Nothing could be decided without his final word, for Nathaniel felt too much honor and love for the one who had been his second father to do anything without his sanction.

As was to be expected the Judge was seriously troubled at the thought of Nathaniel's going South to join in the conflict, and he argued long and seriously against any such project, telling his nephew that he had no right to even consider such questions until he had made a place for himself in the world. When Nathaniel admitted that he had been attending Abolition meetings, and was becoming intimate with some of the leaders, the Judge was roused into excited hostility.