Part 60 (1/2)
”George,” said Mrs. Taylor, ”you come here.”
It may seem severe--I think that it was severe. That evening when Mr. Taylor came home to his family, George received a thras.h.i.+ng for disobedience.
”And I suppose,” said Mrs. Taylor to her husband, ”that she came out just in time to stop 'em breaking Bob Carmody's neck for him.”
Upon the day following Mrs. Taylor essayed the impossible. She took herself over to Molly Wood's cabin. The girl gave her a listless greeting, and the dame sat slowly down, and surveyed the comfortable room.
”A very nice home, deary,” said she, ”if it was a home. But you'll fix something like this in your real home, I have no doubt.”
Molly made no answer.
”What we're going to do without you I can't see,” said Mrs. Taylor.
”But I'd not have it different for worlds. He'll be coming back soon, I expect.”
”Mrs. Taylor,” said Molly, all at once, ”please don't say anything now.
I can't stand it.” And she broke into wretched tears.
”Why, deary, he--”
”No; not a word. Please, please--I'll go out if you do.”
The older woman went to the younger one, and then put her arms round her. But when the tears were over, they had not done any good; it was not the storm that clears the sky--all storms do not clear the sky. And Mrs. Taylor looked at the pale girl and saw that she could do nothing to help her toward peace of mind.
”Of course,” she said to her husband, after returning from her profitless errand, ”you might know she'd feel dreadful.
”What about?” said Taylor.
”Why, you know just as well as I do. And I'll say for myself, I hope you'll never have to help hang folks.”
”Well,” said Taylor, mildly, ”if I had to, I'd have to, I guess.”
”Well, I don't want it to come. But that poor girl is eating her heart right out over it.”
”What does she say?”
”It's what she don't say. She'll not talk, and she'll not let me talk, and she sits and sits.”
”I'll go talk some to her,” said the man.
”Well, Taylor, I thought you had more sense. You'd not get a word in.
She'll be sick soon if her worry ain't stopped someway, though.”
”What does she want this country to do?” inquired Taylor. ”Does she expect it to be like Vermont when it--”
”We can't help what she expects,” his wife interrupted. ”But I wish we could help HER.”
They could not, however; and help came from another source. Judge Henry rode by the next day. To him good Mrs. Taylor at once confided her anxiety. The Judge looked grave.
”Must I meddle?” he said.