Amanda looked at Mrs. Benson with some embarrassment, for she was not good at confidences.
“Susan, you an’ I’ve been brought up together, gone to school together, experienced religion an’ joined the church together, an’ I stood up with you an’ William when you was married, so ’t I’d speak out freer to you than I would to most.”
“I hope so, I’m sure.”
“Though I wouldn’t want you to repeat anything, Susan.”
“’Tain’t likely I would, Mandy.”
“Well, I’d no sooner got Caleb into a clean bed an’ a clean room an’ begun to feed him good food than I begun to like him. There’s things in human hearts that I ain’t wise enough to explain, Susan, an’ I ain’t goin’ to try. Caleb Kimball seemed to me like a man that was drownin’, all because there wa’n’t anybody near to put a hand under his chin an’ keep his head out o’ water. I didn’t suspicion he’d let me do it! I thought he’d just lie there an’ drown, but it didn’t turn out that way.”
“Well, it does kind o’ seem as if you’d gone through the woods o’ life to pick up a crooked stick at last,” sighed Susan; “though I will say, now I’ve been under Caleb Kimball’s roof, he’s an awful sight nicer man close to than he is fur off. So, take it all in all, life an’ men-folks bein’ so uncertain, an’ old age a-creepin’ on first thing you know, perhaps it’s for the best; an’ I do hope you’ll make out to be happy, Mandy.”
There was a quiver of real feeling in Susan Benson’s voice, though she made no movement to touch her friend’s hand.
“I’m goin’ to be happy!” said Amanda cheerfully. “I always did like plenty to do, an’ now I’ve got it for the rest o’ my life!”
“I only hope you can stan’ his ways, Amandy,” and Susan’s voice was still doubtful. “That’s all I’m afraid of; that you’re so diff’rent you can’t never stan’ his ways.”