"You needn't mind," said the doctor.
Mrs. King went to make her adieux the very next day. Her manner was so cordial that Helena was faintly surprised; but, as Martha told Dr. Lavendar, cordiality did not mean the sacrifice of truth to any false idea of politeness.
"I didn't tell her I was sorry she was going," Martha said, standing by the roadside in the chill November wind, talking into the buggy, "because, to speak flatly and frankly, I am not. I don't consider that her example is very good for Old Chester, She is not a good housekeeper. I could tell you certain things—however, I won't, I never gossip. I just said, very kindly,' Good-by, Mrs. Richie. I hope you'll have a pleasant journey.' That was all. No insincere regrets. That's one thing about me, Dr. Lavendar, I may not be perfect, but I never say anything, just to be pleasant!"
"I've noticed that," said Dr. Lavendar; "G'on, Goliath."
And Martha, in great spirits, told her William at tea, that, though Dr.
Lavendar was failing, she had to admit he could still see people's good
qualities. "I told him I hadn't put on any airs of regret about Mrs.
Richie, and he said he had always noticed my frankness."
William helped himself to gooseberry jam in silence.
"You do leave things so catacornered!" Martha observed, laying the thin silver spoon straight in the dish. "William, I never knew anybody so incapable as that woman. I asked her how she had packed her preserves for moving. She said she hadn't made any! Think of that, for a housekeeper. Oh, and I found out about that perfumery, I just asked her. It's nothing but ground orris!"
William said he would like a cup of tea.
"I can't make her out," Martha said, touching the teapot to make sure it was hot; "I've always said she wasn't her brother's equal, mentally. But you do expect a woman to have certain feminine qualities, now the idea of adopting a child, and then deserting him!"
"She hadn't adopted him," William said.