The next instant they were gone, and Jacob, with set teeth and clinched hands, smothered something that would have been a howl if he had given it voice. Sharp lines of pain were marked on his face, and, for the first time, the idea of resistance took fierce and bitter possession of his heart. But the mood was too unusual to last; presently he shook his head, and walked on towards Pardon's farm-house.
Ann wore a smart gingham dress, and her first exclamation was: “Why, Jake! how nice you look. And so you know all about it, too?”
“About what?”
“I see you don't,” said she. “I was too fast; but it makes no difference. I know you are willing to lend me a helping hand.”
“Oh, to be sure,” Jacob answered.
“And not mind a little company?”
Jacob's face suddenly clouded; but he said, though with an effort: “No—not much—if I can be of any help.”
“It's rather a joke, after all,” Ann Pardon continued, speaking rapidly; “they meant a surprise, a few of the young people; but sister Becky found a way to send me word, or I might have been caught like Meribah Johnson last week, in the middle of my work; eight or ten, she said, but more may drop in: and it's moonlight and warm, so they'll be mostly under the trees; and Robert won't be home till late, and I DO want help in carrying chairs, and getting up some ice, and handing around; and, though I know you don't care for merry makings, you CAN help me out, you see—”
Here she paused. Jacob looked perplexed, but said nothing.
“Becky will help what she can, and while I'm in the kitchen she'll have an eye to things outside,” she said.