"And I never dreamed you cared so much about it," she replied, still with repression. "I'm not complaining, am I? I'm only sorry you should be disappointed in me."
"It's not you, dear girl! You're all right! It's just this everlasting bother. Can't you get anybody that will stay?"
I can't seem to get anybody on any terms, so far. I'm going again, to-morrow. Cheer up, dear—the baby keeps well—that's the main thing."
He sat on the rose-bowered porch and smoked while she cleared the table. At first he had tried to help her on these occasions, but their methods were dissimilar and she frankly told him she preferred to do it alone.
So she slipped off the silk and put on the gingham again, washed the dishes with the labored accuracy of a trained mind doing unfamiliar work, made the bread, redressed at last, and joined him about nine o'clock.
"It's too late to go anywhere, I suppose?" he ventured.
"Yes—and I'm too tired. Besides—we can't leave Eddie alone."
"O yes—I forget. Of course we can't."
His hand stole out to take hers. "I am sorry, dear. It's awfully rough on you women out here. How do they all stand it?"
"Most of them stand it much better than I do, Ned. You see they don't want to be doing anything else."