She came in quite unaware of Seth’s presence there. But when she observed him at the table with his writing materials spread out before him, she paused.
“Oh,” she exclaimed, “I didn’t know you were writin’, Seth!”
The man’s patience seemed inexhaustible, for he smiled and shook his head.
“No, Ma,” he said with truth.
The little old woman came round the table and occupied her husband’s chair. If Seth were not writing, then she might as well avail herself of the opportunity which she had long wanted. She had no children of her own, and lavished all her motherly instincts upon this man. She was fond of Rosebud, but the girl occupied quite a secondary place in her heart. It is doubtful if any mother could have loved a son more than she loved Seth. 119
She had a basket of sewing with her which she set upon the table. Then she took from it a bundle of socks and stockings and began to overhaul them with a view to darning. Seth watched the slight figure bending over its work, and the bright eyes peering through the black-rimmed glasses which hooked over her ears. His look was one of deep affection. Surely Nature had made a mistake in not making them mother and son. Still, she had done the next best thing in invoking Fate’s aid in bringing them together. Mrs. Sampson looked no older than the day on which Rosebud had been brought to the house. As Seth had once told her, she would never grow old. She would just go on as she was, and, when the time came, she would pass away peacefully and quietly, not a day older than she had been when he first knew her.
But Seth, understanding so much as he did of the life on that prairie farm, and the overshadowing threat which was always with them, had yet lost sight of the significance of the extreme grayness of this woman’s hair. Still her bright energy and uncomplaining nature might well have lulled all fears, and diverted attention from the one feature which betrayed her ceaseless anxiety.
“I kind o’ tho’t sech work was for young fingers, Ma,” Seth observed, indicating the stockings.
“Ah, Seth, boy, I hated to darn when I was young an’ flighty.”
The man smiled. His accusations had been made 120 to ears that would not hear. He knew this woman’s generous heart.