“It's very warm in here,” they heard her say. “There isn't a bit of draught in this room. It's that hot cook-stove. Mother, I will—I—”
She turned and walked from the room. Mrs. Porter sighed, as she nodded knowingly and looked after the departing form.
“Did you notice her face, girls?” she asked. “It was as white as death itself. She looked as if she was about to faint. It's all this talk about Floyd. Well, they were sort of friends. I tried to get her to stop receiving his attentions, but she thought she knew better. Well, he has got his deserts, I reckon.”
“And all on account of that silly Minnie Wade,” cried Kitty Welborn, “when you know, as well as I do, Mrs. Porter, that Thad Pelham—” The speaker glanced at Nathan Porter, and paused.
“Oh, you needn't let up on yore hen-cackle on my account,” that blunt worthy made haste to say. “I'll go out an' look at my new hogs. You gals are out fer a day o' pleasure, an' I wouldn't interfere with the workin' of yore jaws fer a purty.”
Mrs. Porter didn't remain to hear Kitty Welborn finish her observation, but followed her daughter. In the dining-room, adjoining, an old woman sat at a window. She was dressed in dingy black calico, her snowy hair brushed smoothly down over a white, deeply wrinkled brow, and was fanning herself feebly with a turkey-feather fan. She had Mrs. Porter's features and thinness of frames.
“Mother,” Mrs. Porter said, pausing before her, “didn't Cynthia come in here just now?”
“Yes, she did,” replied the old woman, sharply. “She did. And I just want to know, Mandy, what you all have been saying to her in there. I want to know, I say.”
“We haven't been saying anything to her, as I know of,” said the farmer's wife, in slow, studious surprise.
“I know you have—I say, I know you have!” The withered hand holding the fan quivered in excitement. “I know you have; I can always tell when that poor child is worried. I heard a little of it, too, but not all. I heard them mention Hillhouse's name. I tell you, I am not going to sit still and let a whole pack of addle-pated women tease as good a girl as Cynthia is plumb to death.”