CHAPTER X
THE INTELLECT OF MISS INCHMAN
It was true that on that morning Mrs. Cliff had been standing in her front yard looking as her best friends would not have liked her to look. There was nothing physically the matter with her, but she was dissatisfied and somewhat disturbed in her mind. Mr. Burke was so busy nowadays that when he stopped in to see her it was only for a few minutes, and Willy Croup had developed a great facility in discovering things which ought to be attended to in various parts of the town, and of going to attend to them with Andrew Marks to drive her.
Not only did Mrs. Cliff feel that she was left more to herself than she liked, but she had the novel experience of not being able to find interesting occupation. She was was glad to have servants who could perform all the household duties, and could have done more if they had had a chance. Still, it was unpleasant to feel that she herself could do so little to fill up her unoccupied moments. So she put on a shawl and went into her front yard, simply to walk about and get a little of the fresh air. But when she went out of the door, she stood still contemplating the front fence.
Here was a fence which had been an eyesore to her for two or three years! She believed she had money enough to fence in the whole State, and yet those shabby palings and posts must offend her eye every time she came out of her door! The flowers were nearly all dead now, and she would have had a new fence immediately, but Mr. Burke had dissuaded her, saying that when the new dining-room was brought over from the corner lot there would have to be a fence around the whole premises, and it would be better to have it all done at once.
"There are so many things which I can afford just as well as not," she said to herself, "and which I cannot do!" And it was the unmistakable doleful expression upon her countenance, as she thought this, which was the foundation of Miss Shott's remarks to her neighbors on the subject of Mrs. Cliff's probable early demise.
Miss Shott was passing on the other side of the street, and she was walking rapidly, but she could see more out of the corner of her eye than most people could see when they were looking straight before them at the same things.
Suddenly Mrs. Cliff determined that she must do something. She felt blue,—she wanted to talk to somebody. And, feeling thus, she naturally went into the house, put on her bonnet and her wrap, and walked down to see Miss Cushing. There was not anything in particular that she wanted to see her about, but there was work going on and she might talk about it; or, it might happen that she would be inclined to give some orders. She was always glad to do anything she could to help that hard-working and kind-hearted neighbor!
When Mrs. Cliff entered the parlor of Miss Cushing, five women each gave a sudden start. The dressmaker was so thrown off her balance that she dropped her sewing on the floor, and rising, went forward to shake her visitor by the hand, a thing she was not in the habit of doing to anybody, because, as is well known to all the world, a person who is sewing for a livelihood cannot get up to shake hands with the friends and acquaintances who may happen in upon her. At this the other ladies rose and shook hands, and it might have been supposed that the new-comer had just returned from a long absence. Then Miss Cushing gave Mrs. Cliff a chair, and they all sat down again.