The Story of a Country Town

by E. W. Howe

She replied very much as a polite woman should—that while it was not possible that she could positively say on so short an acquaintance, she believed she would become entirely content with it in time.

“I have lived here contentedly enough a good many years,” Barker replied, “with few acquaintances and fewer friends. The country is very fair. I know little enough of the people, but no one is crowded here. There is room enough for everybody, and there are splendid opportunities to be let alone. There is a good deal in that.”

In her dependent, uncertain way, Mateel looked as though it were possible to be let alone too much, although she said nothing.

“I take it that people do not come west for society, but rather because there are more acres than people in this direction,” Barker said. “I have been told that it is possible to get too much of society, and that after it quiet is appreciated. To this class Fairview will prove a satisfactory place. My nearest neighbor lives two miles away; I shouldn’t care if he lived ten. He is an ignorant fellow, who chops wood for a living; and he is very considerate, for he never comes to see me. I think I never spoke to my neighbor except to ask him how much was my debt. We get along very well. Who is the young man at the window?” noticing Bragg, who had changed his position and was looking at the sky.

I replied that he was a friend of Mr. Shepherd’s, and that he had only arrived a few days before.

“He looks as though he was in jail for murder, and meditating an escape in order to commit the same offence with greater atrocity. What is the matter with him?”

I was afraid that this might offend Mateel, but after seeing that Bragg had not heard it she laughed over it, as did the rest of us. She added, however, that he was in excellent health, and that he was more moody than sullen, and could be very agreeable when he wanted to be.

“I judge he has had too much of society, and enjoys the quiet of Fairview. He looks pleasant.”

I will swear that Bragg’s face was the most unpleasant and disagreeable at that moment I had ever seen.

“He should visit the mill for quiet. We have no noise there except the roar of the water and the rumble of the wheels, and we have grown so accustomed to these that it would not be quiet without them. I hope he will like the country.”