The Country of the Pointed Firs - Sarah Orne Jewett (top 10 novels to read .txt) 📗

comin’ dark I kep’ making errands out to the gate an’ down the road to see if you wa’n’t in the doldrums somewhere down the bay.”

“There was a headwind, as you know,” said Mrs. Blackett, giving me the cap-basket, and holding my hand affectionately as we walked up the clean-swept path to the door. “I was partly ready to come, but dear William said I should be all tired out and might get cold, havin’ to beat all the way in. So we give it up, and set down and spent the evenin’ together. It was a little rough and windy outside, and I guess ’twas better judgment; we went to bed very early and made a good start just at daylight. It’s been a lovely mornin’ on the water. William thought he’d better fetch across beyond Bird Rocks, rowin’ the greater part o’ the way; then we sailed from there right over to the landin’, makin’ only one tack. William’ll be in again for me tomorrow, so I can come back here an’ rest me over night, an’ go to meetin’ tomorrow, and have a nice, good visit.”

“She was just havin’ her breakfast,” said Mrs. Todd, who had listened eagerly to the long explanation without a word of disapproval, while her face shone more and more with joy. “You just sit right down an’ have a cup of tea and rest you while we make our preparations. Oh, I am so gratified to think you’ve come! Yes, she was just havin’ her breakfast, and we were speakin’ of you. Where’s William?”

“He went right back; said he expected some schooners in about noon after bait, but he’ll come an’ have his dinner with us tomorrow, unless it rains; then next day. I laid his best things out all ready,” explained Mrs. Blackett, a little anxiously. “This wind will serve him nice all the way home. Yes, I will take a cup of tea, dear⁠—a cup of tea is always good; and then I’ll rest a minute and be all ready to start.”

“I do feel condemned for havin’ such hard thoughts o’ William,” openly confessed Mrs. Todd. She stood before us so large and serious that we both laughed and could not find it in our hearts to convict so rueful a culprit. “He shall have a good dinner tomorrow, if it can be got, and I shall be real glad to see William,” the confession ended handsomely, while Mrs. Blackett smiled approval and made haste to praise the tea. Then I hurried away to make sure of the grocery wagon. Whatever might be the good of the reunion, I was going to have the pleasure and delight of a day in Mrs. Blackett’s company, not to speak of Mrs. Todd’s.

The early morning breeze was still blowing, and the warm, sunshiny air was of some ethereal northern sort, with a cool freshness as it came over new-fallen snow. The world was filled with a fragrance of fir-balsam and the faintest flavor of seaweed from the ledges, bare and brown at low tide in the little harbor. It was so still and so early that the village was but half awake. I could hear no voices but those of the birds, small and great⁠—the constant song sparrows, the clink of a yellowhammer over in the woods, and the far conversation of some deliberate crows. I saw William Blackett’s escaping sail already far from land, and Captain Littlepage was sitting behind his closed window as I passed by, watching for someone who never came. I tried to speak to him, but he did not see me. There was a patient look on the old man’s face, as if the world were a great mistake and he had nobody with whom to speak his own language or find companionship.

XVII A Country Road

Whatever doubts and anxieties I may have had about the inconvenience of the Begg’s high wagon for a person of Mrs. Blackett’s age and shortness, they were happily overcome by the aid of a chair and her own valiant spirit. Mrs. Todd bestowed great care upon seating us as if we were taking passage by boat, but she finally pronounced that we were properly trimmed. When we had gone only a little way up the hill she remembered that she had left the house door wide open, though the large key was safe in her pocket. I offered to run back, but my offer was met with lofty scorn, and we lightly dismissed the matter from our minds, until two or three miles further on we met the doctor, and Mrs. Todd asked him to stop and ask her nearest neighbor to step over and close the door if the dust seemed to blow in the afternoon.

“She’ll be there in her kitchen; she’ll hear you the minute you call; ’twont give you no delay,” said Mrs. Todd to the doctor. “Yes, Mis’ Dennett’s right there, with the windows all open. It isn’t as if my fore door opened right on the road, anyway.” At which proof of composure Mrs. Blackett smiled wisely at me.

The doctor seemed delighted to see our guest; they were evidently the warmest friends, and I saw a look of affectionate confidence in their eyes. The good man left his carriage to speak to us, but as he took Mrs. Blackett’s hand he held it a moment, and, as if merely from force of habit, felt her pulse as they talked; then to my delight he gave the firm old wrist a commending pat.

“You’re wearing well; good for another ten years at this rate,” he assured her cheerfully, and she smiled back. “I like to keep a strict account of my old standbys,” and he turned to me. “Don’t you let Mrs. Todd overdo today⁠—old folks like her are apt to be thoughtless;” and then we all laughed, and, parting, went our ways gayly.

“I suppose he puts up with your rivalry the same as ever?” asked Mrs. Blackett. “You and he are as friendly as ever, I see, Almiry,”