“I’m afraid they’ll die if it should be a cold fall, with nobody to look after ’em; but maybe I can take ’em home to my shed an’ lend Mr. Kimball another hen.” (Amanda’s tone was motherly.) “I never like to break up a hen’s nest, somehow; it seems as if they must have feelin’s like other folks.”
“I’d take her off quicker’n scat, an’ keep takin’ her off, till she got some sense,” said Abby, with the Chinese cruelty of sixteen.
“Well, you let her be till Mr. Kimball gets well enough to ask; an’ I think, Abby, you might clean up the dooryard just a little mite this mornin’,” suggested Amanda. “If you could straighten up the fence an’ find a couple of old hinges to hang the gate with, it would kind o’ put new heart into Mr. Kimball when he’s sittin’ up an’ lookin’ out the window.”
“Why didn’t he put heart into hisself by hangin’ his own gate, before he took sick?” grumbled Abby, reducing Amanda to momentary silence by her pitiless logic.
“Why didn’t he, indeed?” echoed her heart gloomily, receiving nothing in the way of answer from her limited experience of men.
Caleb had spoken more frequently the last few days. When by the combined exertions of the Bensons and the doctor he had been brought down into his mother’s old room, Amanda closed the kitchen door, thinking one experience at a time was enough for a man in his weak and exhausted condition. William Benson couldn’t see any sense in this precaution, but he never did see much sense in what women-folks did. He wanted to show Caleb the new paint and paper immediately, and remark casually that he had done all the work while he was “night-nursin’.”
The next morning Amanda had seized a good opportunity to open the door between the two rooms, straightway retiring to the side entry to await developments. In a few moments she heard Caleb moving, and going in found him half sitting up in bed, leaning on his elbow.
“What’s the matter with the kitchen?” he asked feebly, staring with wide-open eyes at the unaccustomed prospect.
“Only fresh paint an’ paper; that’s William’s work.”
“O God, I ain’t worth it! I ain’t worth it!” he groaned as he hid his face in the pillow.