The Spartan boy’s heroism has often been outdone by women who smiled and smiled whilst venomous tongues seared their hearts. So Mrs. Ranger began boldly, as one does who fires from under cover at an unarmed foe.
But Temperance had been so long one of the Lansing family that she had assimilated a little of their “unexpectedness,” and as Mrs. Ranger continued her remarks, egged on by acquiescing nods from the older women, there began to gather upon the brow of Temperance a deep black cloud.
Mrs. Ranger paused in her harangue to gather breath for her peroration, when suddenly the thread of talk was plucked from her ready lips by the strident voice of Temperance, who, rising to her feet, and gathering her sewing together as she spoke, proceeded to deliver herself of an opinion upon the charity of the women about her. In whatever particular that opinion erred, it certainly merited praise for its frankness. After Temperance had indulged in a few pungent generalizations she narrowed her remarks to Mrs. Ranger’s case. Never in all the annals of Dole had any woman received such a “setting out” from the tongue of another as Mrs. Ranger received that day from Temperance. Temperance spoke with a knowledge of her subject which gave play to all the eloquence she was capable of; she discussed and disposed of Mrs. Ranger’s forbears even to the third generation, and when she allowed herself finally to speak of Mrs. Ranger in person, she expressed herself with a freedom and decision which could only have been the result of settled opinion.
“As for your tongue, Mrs. Ranger, to my mind, it’s a deal like a snake’s tail—it will keep on moving after the rest of you is dead.”
With which remark Temperance departed from the sewing circle which had metaphorically squared itself to resist the swift onslaught of her invectives; she gathered her skirts about her as she passed through the room, with the air of one fain to avoid contamination, and stepping forth as one who shakes the dust from off her prunella shoes as a testimony against those she is leaving, she took the road home. Temperance’s mouth was very grim, and a hectic spot burned the sallowness of her cheeks, but she said to herself as she strode off briskly:
“Well—I ’spose it’s onchristian, but it’s a mighty relief t’ have told that Mrs. Ranger just once what I think of her—but oh! pore Lanty and pore, pore M’bella! To think it should come about like this!”
And the red spots upon her cheeks were extinguished by bitter tears.
The sewing circle broke up in confusion; one could only hear a chorus of “Well—I declare!” “It beats all!” “Did you ever!” as the ladies bundled their work together—each eager to get home to spread the news and to discuss the matter with her husband.
And that night in the starlight Mabella waited at the little gate listening for the hoof beats of Lanty’s horse from one side, and the cry of little Dorothy from the house behind her.
And when Lanty came—alas! What “God’s glowworms” in the sky revealed, we shall not say.