Some of the women busied themselves doing Lizzie May's work for her. They sent one of the men to milk the cow; and when the milk was brought in strained it and put it away. They washed and dressed and fed the children, wiped the stove clean and swept the floor. They made coffee and offered a cupful to Lizzie May, telling her that it would do her good. She tried to drink it, but her throat refused to swallow.
She could not keep still a moment. When she was not pouring out her grief to some newcomer she wandered restlessly here and there about the kitchen. Everything she saw reminded her of Dan and brought forth new bursts of anguish.
"There's his work cap. Oh, Luelly, he hung it on that nail. An' naow he won't never take it off agin."
"Oh, Aunt Abigail, it was Dan put up them shelves. He made that there little table. He used to whistle so happy when he was a-fixin' things araound the house. Oh, I can't think he won't never whistle agin."
Having done up all the chores, the women stood and sat around in little groups, talking together in hushed tones. They slipped in to look at Dan lying so cold and motionless on the white bed; and after shaking their heads over him, turned to eye with scarcely less reverence and more lively interest the bright new rag carpet, the lace curtains, the shiny what-not with its load of gimcracks and the cane-seated chairs.
"Poor Lizzie May, my heart jes bleeds for her," said Hat Wolf. In truth her large, bold eyes were softened by tears. She wiped away two that had started to run down her cheeks.
"I wish Dan hadn't never planted that cedar tree by the house. Luke told him while he was a-plantin' it that come time it growed large enough to shadder a grave there'd be a death in the fam'ly. But he on'y laughed an' said Lizzie May wanted a tree an' went on a-diggin' the hole."
"Yes, I've allus heard cedar trees is unlucky," sighed Aunt Sally Whitmarsh.
"I wonder what she'll do now Dan's gone," continued Hat. "If she goes back to live with her dad she'll like enough have a auction sale. If she has a sale I'd like to bid on the carpet an' curtains. They're both jes the same as new."
"I dunno what she'll do," returned Aunt Sally, who was also taking a curious survey of the things in the room. "She takes on terrible, poor thing. But of course she'll git over it. She'll likely go back to her dad fer a spell. But I don't hardly think she'll stay a widder long. People that has nice things had best hang onto 'em. If I was her I'd lay the things by so I'd have 'em." Aunt Sally slid back quietly into the kitchen.