“No, I sha'n't,” replied Hannah. “I'm married.”
“I heard pretty straight this morning,” said Lucinda, “that Lucy Ayres had got married out West, and had done real well.”
“I'm mighty glad of it,” said Hannah, sharply. “She was crazy enough to get married when she was here.”
Lucinda echoed her as sharply. “Guess you're right,” she said. “Albion Bennet told me some things. I shouldn't think she'd make much of a wife, if she has got a pretty face.”
“She's just the kind to settle down and be a real sensible woman, after she's found out that she's on the earth and not in the clouds,” returned Hannah, with an air of wisdom.
Then Albion Bennet came into the kitchen for some hot water for shaving. He was going to the wedding, and had closed his store early, and was about to devote a long time to preparations. Lucinda, also, was going. She had a new black silk for the occasion.
When Albion left the kitchen he beckoned her to follow him. She made an excuse and went out into the corridor. “What is it?” she said to Albion, who was waiting, holding his pitcher of hot water.
“Nothing,” said he, “only I was over to Alford this morning and—I bought some violets. I thought you'd like to wear them to the wedding.”
Lucinda stared at him. “What for?” asked she.
Albion fidgeted and his pitcher of hot water tilted.