At last in the middle of the morning she saw on a farmhouse porch an old lady shelling peas. There was a cat at her feet which was purring a loud tune and the sound was a welcome to Elizabeth. She must have a cat—perhaps she could take a kitten home with her.
The old lady smiled pleasantly. She had bright, intelligent eyes and quick, deft hands. She invited Elizabeth to sit down and they exchanged views about the beauty of the weather and the promising condition of the crops.
“Have you lived here always?” asked Elizabeth.
“I was born in this house,” answered the old lady. “When I was married, we stayed here because my people were old. Now I live here with my son. I want him to get married, but he can’t find the right woman, though he could give her pretty nearly everything.” She looked at Elizabeth meaningly. “I might send him to get acquainted with you.”
Elizabeth smiled at this match-making.
“I have my own farm on my hands,” said she.
Elizabeth took a deep breath. For a few minutes she had forgotten the cloud which hung over her. Then she told her story, Herbert’s long illness, the advice of the doctors, their discovery that their mother still owned her father’s property in Pennsylvania, and their journey East.
“We settled down here and made a garden, and then we started out to sell our things. I believe in being friendly so I told who I was. Immediately people seemed to be repelled, they treated me unkindly. Presently I found out that it was because of my grandfather and something he was supposed to have done.”
The old lady looked at her intently. Her hands had ceased to work and she frowned heavily.