Her visit was as successful as visits to Mrs Belknap usually were, but she did not linger over it. She should have taken sweetmeats instead of pickles to the old lady, she told Mrs Stone afterwards, for she was sharp and sour enough by nature. But she told her a good many things about the seminary, and about her visit at Dr Austin’s, and about getting lost on the mountain with Mrs Stone. She answered many questions also, some of which were not very easy to answer, and on the whole mollified the old lady before she went away.
“And how is Eunice these days? Yes, I know she looks pretty well. I worried considerable about her when I heard that Justin Everett was coming home. But I always thought she showed her sense by letting him go away, and staying herself. I guess she’ll let him go again. What do you think of him? Has he changed any? He hasn’t as much as looked at my place since he came.”
“That is strange!” said Fidelia. “I don’t remember him before he went away. Yes, he is going away pretty soon. Mrs Belknap, when are you coming over to see Eunice and Mrs Stone?”
“Ruby Peck that was? She was a pretty smart girl when I used to know her, and I expect she did a pretty smart thing when she married Ezra Stone. Folks say she’s got enough to keep her all her life, which is more than can be said of me; and Ezra Stone could not hold a candle to the kind of man my husband was!” and so on.
Fidelia heard it all, and remembered it, and made Eunice and Mrs Stone smile by repeating some of the old lady’s words, but all the time she was saying to herself—
“Shall I hurry home—or shall I stay till it is too late? Oh, I must go! No, I must not go.”
She went at last hurrying over the meadow and through the wood, till she came breathless to the gap in the fence by the road, and then she sat down to rest. And then slowly up the hill came the doctor’s old Grey, as usual, choosing his own pace. She did not see him, but she knew it was old Grey, and then she heard a voice say—“Let him breathe a minute;” and the old horse stood still.
Fidelia held her breath lest she should be discovered, then watched them as they went on, till the old chaise passed out of sight. Then she turned homewards, pausing at the spot near the big rock where last night she had seen Justin Everett soothing his frightened mare with hand and voice.
“Only last night!” she repeated. “It was a dream—only a dream; and everything shall be as before—yes, everything! Only I wish Eunice would tell me—”
To outward seeming, all was as before. And, though every thought of Dr Justin hurt her, it was chiefly because of her own treachery to Eunice, as she angrily called it. And so a few days passed, and she grew afraid of the dull, persistent pain at last, and said—“I will speak to Eunice.”