Part 2 (1/2)

Just here Jathrop came out of his mother's front door and walked down the path. Both ladies were freshly shocked by the sight. At the gate he turned in the opposite direction. Both ladies stared after him. Soon he was out of sight. Then they stared at each other.

”Well, what is he up to now?” Mrs. Macy finally e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

”I don't know,” said Susan in a tone of complete despair as to ever again gaining any insight into the motives which moved Jathrop, ”I d'n know, Mrs. Macy. Don't ask me anything about Jathrop Lathrop after he's gone home to see his mother and has handed me over a Chinese wife to board. He may be gone up to Mrs. Brown's to run off with Amelia for all I know. Nothing is ever going to surprise me any more after this day. I only know one thing, if he does run off with Amelia, that Chinee'll find herself and his valises dumped off of my premises pretty quick. I never was one for false feelings, and I should see no call for Christian charity toward a heathen who comes to me with two black bags on her legs and a dressing-sack for an overcoat.”

”I wonder if Jathrop likes her wearing such clothes,” said Mrs. Macy.

”Everybody is wondering.”

”I don't know,” said Miss Clegg, ”men are very queer. There's no telling what they are going to fancy till they get out of the train married to it. Think of his having the face to write 'How's Susan Clegg?' and him married to that puzzle-blocks thing all the time. I wonder what his mother said when he told her!”

”Let's go over and see Mrs. Lathrop!” suggested Mrs. Macy, ”she's over there alone now.”

This idea immediately found favor with Susan. ”But I'll have to go in and see what _she's_ up to first,” she said. ”If she's caught a rat and is making soup in my teapot with it, I shan't feel to enjoy leaving her alone with my teapot.”

Mrs. Macy could but feel the extreme justice of this view, and Susan, whose countenance indicated that she was sorely beset by misgivings, went into the house.

When she came out, her face wore a relieved expression.

”She's all safe,” she said. ”She's asleep on the floor. I must say it's changed my feelings toward her. It shows she knows her place.”

They walked sedately to Mrs. Lathrop's. They climbed the back steps, and they knocked.

Mrs. Lathrop was busy making preparations for dinner. She came to the door with a prompt.i.tude which, in view of her well-known habit of deliberation, was little short of miraculous.

”We came to see how you were,” said Mrs. Macy.

”Come in,” said Mrs. Lathrop.

They walked in and seated themselves on two of the wooden-bottomed kitchen chairs. Mrs. Lathrop went on with her work. She was uncommonly active, and her face wore a broad, unusual smile. ”Jathrop's gone up to the cemetery,” she said. ”He's going to have a monument put up to his father.”

”What do you think of--?” interrupted Susan.

”Yes, we come to--” began Mrs. Macy.

”He's going,” continued Mrs. Lathrop, taking down a plate and blowing the thick dust from its surface, ”to have an awful handsome monument put up. Not a animal like you put up to your father, Susan, but a angel hanging to a pillar with both hands and feeling for a cloud with its feet. He showed me the picture. And he's going to have the parlor papered and give the town a watering-trough for horses, with a tin cup on a chain for people, and he's--”

”Yes, but--” interrupted Susan.

”You know, of course--” began Mrs. Macy.

Mrs. Lathrop swept off the top of the rolling-pin with the stove-brush.

”And he's going to build me on a bedroom right off the hall,” she continued, ”and put a furnace under the whole house. And one of those lamps that haul up and down, and a new set of kitchen things, and he'll come here every year and see if I want anything else, and if I do, I'm to have it. I'm to have a pew in church, even if I never do go to church, and a paper every day, and his baby picture done big, and be fitted for new gla.s.ses.”

”But, Mrs. Lathrop--” Susan interrupted, seeing that Mrs. Lathrop was surely still in ignorance as to her Mongolian daughter-in-law.

”Yes, you--” began Mrs. Macy.

”Liza Em'ly is to do all the sewing I want,” went on Mrs. Lathrop, proceeding with her baking preparations at a great rate, ”and Jathrop'll pay the bill. And any things I want, I'm just to send for, and Jathrop'll pay the bill; and anything I can think of what I want done, I'm just to say so, and Jathrop'll pay the bill.”

It seemed as if Susan Clegg would burst at this. It was plain now that Jathrop really was rich, and here was his mother supposing the rose was utterly thornless.