“Well, if you ain’t all here out on the piazza!” she exclaimed, turning, in at the walk leading up to one of the ornate little houses. “My, ain’t this grand!”
“Oh, yes, it’s grand, all right,” nodded the tired-looking man in the big chair, removing his feet from the railing. He was in his shirt-sleeves, and was smoking a pipe. The droop of his thin mustache matched the droop of his thin shoulders—and both indefinably but unmistakably spelled disillusion and discouragement. “It’s grand, but I think it’s too grand—for us. However, daughter says the best is none too good—in Hillerton. Eh, Bess?”
Bessie, the pretty, sixteen-year-old daughter of the family, only shrugged her shoulders a little petulantly. It was Harriet, the wife, who spoke—a large, florid woman with a short upper lip, and a bewilderment of bepuffed light hair. She was already on her feet, pushing a chair toward her sister-in-law.
“Of course it isn’t too grand, Jim, and you know it. There aren’t any really nice houses in Hillerton except the Pennocks’ and the old Gaylord place. There, sit here, Flora. You look tired.”
“Thanks. I be—turrible tired. Warm, too, ain’t it?” The little dressmaker began to fan herself with the hat she had taken off. “My, ’tis fur over here, ain’t it? Not much like ’twas when you lived right ’round the corner from me! And I had to put on a hat and gloves, too. Someway, I thought I ought to—over here.”
Condescendingly the bepuffed head threw an approving nod in her direction.
“Quite right, Flora. The East Side is different from the West Side, and no mistake. And what will do there won’t do here at all, of course.”
“How about father’s shirt-sleeves?” It was a scornful gibe from Bessie in the hammock. “I don’t notice any of the rest of the men around here sitting out like that.”
“Bessie!” chided her mother wearily. “You know very well I’m not to blame for what your father wears. I’ve tried hard enough, I’m sure!”
“Well, well, Hattie,” sighed the man, with a gesture of abandonment. “I supposed I still had the rights of a freeborn American citizen in my own home; but it seems I haven’t.” Resignedly he got to his feet and went into the house. When he returned a moment later he was wearing his coat.