This question surprised me, and I assented quickly, wondering what

would come next.

"I thought so," she said. "I have seen you on the road on your wheel,

and some one told me who you were. And now, since you have been so

kind to me, I am going to tell you exactly why I cannot ask you to

stop at our house. Everything is all wrong there to-day, and if I

don't explain what has happened, you might think that things are

worse than they really are, and I wouldn't want anybody to think

that."

I listened with great attention, for I saw that she was anxious to

free herself of the imputation of being inhospitable, and although the

heavy rain and my rapid pace made it sometimes difficult to catch her

words, I lost very little of her story.

"You see," said she, "my father is very fond of gardening, and he

takes great pride in his vegetables, especially the early ones. He has

peas this year ahead of everybody else in the neighborhood, and it was

only day before yesterday that he took me out to look at them. He has

been watching them ever since they first came up out of the ground,

and when he showed me the nice big pods and told me they would be

ready to pick in a day or two, he looked so proud and happy that you

might have thought his peas were little living people. I truly believe

that even at prayer-time he could not help thinking how good those

peas would taste.

"But this morning when he came in from the garden and told mother that

he was going to pick our first peas, so as to have them perfectly

fresh for dinner, she said that he would better not pick them to-day,

because the vegetable man had been along just after breakfast, and he

had had such nice green peas that she had bought some, and therefore

he had better keep his peas for some other day.

"Now, I don't want you to think that mother isn't just as good as

gold, for she is. But she doesn't take such interest in garden things

as father does, and to her all peas are peas, provided they are good

ones. But when father heard what she had done I know that he felt

exactly as if he had been stabbed in one of his tenderest places. He

did not say one word, and he walked right out of the house, and since

that they haven't spoken to each other. It was dreadful to sit at

dinner, neither of them saying a word to the other, and only speaking

to me. It was all so different from the way things generally are that

I can scarcely bear it.




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