in the general negative way which warms the bosoms of most
of us as we consider how much better off we are than our neighbors--the
"Lord-I-thank-thee-that-I-am-not-as-other-men-are" way;--but Mrs.
Wagoner was glad positively. She was glad that any of the Uptons and
the Duvals were poor. One of her grandfathers had been what Mrs. Wagoner
(when she mentioned the matter at all) called "Manager" for one of the
Duvals. She was aware that most people did not accept that term. She
remembered old Colonel Duval--the _old_ Colonel--tall, thin, white,
grave. She had been dreadfully afraid of him. She had had a feeling of
satisfaction at his funeral. It was like the feeling she had when she
learned that Colonel Duval had not forgiven Betty nor left her a cent.

Mrs. Wagoner used to go to see Mrs. Upton--she went frequently. It was
"her duty" she said. She carried her things--especially advice. There
are people whose visits are like spells of illness. It took Mrs. Upton
a fortnight to get over one of these visits--to convalesce. Mrs. Wagoner
was "a mother to her": at least, Mrs. Wagoner herself said so. In some
respects it was rather akin to the substance of that name which forms in
vinegar. It was hard to swallow: it galled. Even Mrs. Upton's gentleness
was overtaxed--and rebelled. She had stood all the homilies--all the
advice. But when Mrs. Wagoner, with her lips drawn in, after wringing
her heart, recalled to her the warning she had given her before she
married, she stopped standing it. She did not say much; but it was
enough to make Mrs. Wagoner's stiff bonnet-bows tremble. Mrs. Wagoner
walked out feeling chills down her spine, as if Colonel Duval were at
her heels. She had "meant to talk about sending Jim to school": at least
she said so. She condoled with every one in the neighborhood on the
"wretched ignorance" in which Jim was growing up, "working like a common
negro." She called him "that ugly boy."

Jim was ugly--Mrs. Wagoner said, very ugly. He was slim, red-headed,
freckle-faced, weak-eyed; he stooped and he stammered. Yet there was
something about him, with his thin features, which made one look twice.
Mrs. Wagoner used to say she did not know where that boy got all his
ugliness from, for she must admit his father was rather good-looking
before he became so bloated, and Betty Duval would have been "passable"
if she had had any "vivacity." There were people who said Betty Duval
had been a beauty. She was careful in her