Jewel Weed

"Lena'd be 'shamed to death if she knew you'd caught me doin' my wash,"

she whined. "I hope you won't tell her. She can come down on me pretty

hard sometimes, I tell you."

"Oh, I won't tell," Mrs. Lenox laughed. "I only wish you had let me

help. I was thinking what fun it must be--with a maid to hold the soap.

It took me back to nursery days. I used to love to wash dolls' clothes."

"I don't do it for fun," Mrs. Quincy snapped. "But I ain't provided with

a servant that's worth her salt. If anybody's dependent, like I am, on a

whipper-snapper son-inlaw, that ain't got affection enough for me to

spend an hour a week with me--why, I guess I have to pinch and scrape

wherever I can. No knowin' when I'll git more. I've worked hard all my

life for other folks, Mrs. Lenox. You can see by my hands how I've

worked. And what do I get for it? A stranger like you is kinder to me

than my own flesh and blood. And I know well enough that if Richard

Percival throws me a crust, it's only because he would be ashamed to

have folks say his mother-in-law was starving. Oh, I let him know that I

see through him whenever he comes near me--which ain't very often. And

Lena goes days and days and never comes to see me." Her voice and her

garrulity were rising, but here a sob gave pause, and Mrs. Lenox rushed

in, repressing an impulse to say a word on the elementary laws of give

and take in love.

"Well, I think you are very sensible to do the washing. One must have

some occupation to fill the days, mustn't one? And there aren't many

things, when one is tied to the house. If to-morrow is warm, I wonder if

you would feel up to a little drive in the afternoon?"

"I shouldn't be surprised if I would."

"And do you care for reading? I've brought you a rather clever little

story. I see you have all the magazines."

"Yes, Lena sends 'em. She thinks they'll occupy me and save her the

trouble of comin' herself. But, good land, I don't care for 'em beyond

lookin' at the pictures and the advertisements--except the Ladies' Home

Companion. That has good recipes in it; only Sarah can't make nothin'

that's fit to eat. But I did read that thing in the Chatterer about

Miss Elton. You've seen it, of course!"--and she laughed with cheerful

malice and licked her lips like a cat.

"About Miss Elton? In the Chatterer? I haven't the least idea of what

you are talking," said Mrs. Lenox in a dazed way.

"It's over there," returned the lady, with a comprehensive wave of the

thumb. "You can read it. Lena said it couldn't be anybody else." Mrs.

Lenox rose and took the magazine from the table. She walked over to the

window and deliberately turned her back on her hostess. Her hands shook

a little as she turned page after page till her eyes fell on this little

paragraph.