Young Ann entered the room as composedly as she had left it.
"Where have you been, Ann?" asked her mother, a little sharply.
"Fixing curds for the turkeys," said the girl, placidly.
"Well, I declare, I'd forgotten it entire!" said Mrs. White. "I am glad to find that you have such a thoughtful mind."
"Oh, ma!" said young Ann, in an acme of admiration. Mrs. White smiled, as who should say, "I can't restrain my muse," and continued in the same voice: "Shall we go out and see the feathered tribe eat their humble portion?"
Mrs. Deans rose gladly, and out they went into the sunshine. It was one of those days—so perfect, if one can enjoy it without toil, in darkened rooms or shady nooks—so intolerable, if bodily toil beneath the blazing sun is demanded. They went about leisurely, watched the melancholy young turkeys picking daintily at their food, encouraged to the attack by the solitary little chicken that was domiciled in their coop. When the turkey eggs were hatching, careful poultry-keepers put one hen egg in with them, so that the chicken might "show them how to eat." This one, vigorous little black Spanish chick, certainly performed its duties nobly—its compact little body darting here and there among the turkeys, staggering about on their long, fragile legs. They passed Bing, lying on his back under a chestnut tree.
Mrs. Deans and Mrs. White grew very affable over the poultry, and the clouds dropped down, with the dewy darkness of a moonless summer night, before Mrs. Deans went home.
She was, upon the whole, dissatisfied with her visit. Those Whites were so disgustingly equable—so ridiculously pleased with themselves—and that Bing White! of all the objects! Mrs. Deans slept at last, her brows drawn in the ill-natured pose her thoughts suggested.
The Whites slumbered peacefully, save where Bing lay, his eyes gleaming in the dark, as he dreamt long, waking dreams of ghastly pleasures; but he too slept at last, his fingers twitching as he slept, his lips like two streaks of blood.
Myron Holder slept the too-sound sleep of weariness, her yellow-haired baby on her breast, her face placid and calmed into severe lines of beauty.