work, and her devotion to neighborly good deeds relaxed, she turned to
knitting wash-rags as a sportsman turns to his gun, or a toper to his
cups. She seemed to find more stimulus for thought and more helpful
diversion in the production of one wash-rag than most persons find in
a trip abroad.
One day, not very long after the eventful missionary tea, she was
sitting in her garden, and knitting more rapidly than usual, as she
said to Maxwell:
"What's been the matter with you these last few weeks? You've been
lookin' altogether too sober, and you don't eat nothin' to speak of.
It must be either liver, or conscience, or heart."
Secretly, she strongly suspected a cardiac affection, of the romantic
variety. She intended to investigate.
Donald laughed as he replied:
"Perhaps it's all three together; but I'm all right. There's nothing
the matter with me. Every man has his blue days, you know."
"Yes, but the last month you've had too many; and there must be some
reason for it. There's nothin' so refreshin' as gettin' away from your
best friends, once in a while. I guess you need a change--pinin' for
the city, maybe. Sakes alive! I can't see how folks can live that
way--all crowded up together, like a lot of prisons."
"You don't care to visit in the city, then?"
"Not on your life!"
"But a change is good for everyone. Don't you ever get away from
Durford for a few weeks?"
"Not very often. What with decidin' where to go, and fussin' to get
ready, and shuttin' up the house, it's more trouble than its worth.
Then there's so many things to 'tend to when you get home."
"But don't you ever visit relatives?"
"Not on your life, unless I'm subpoena-ed by the coroner: though of
course we do get together to celebrate a family funeral or a wedding
now and then. Visitin' is no joke, I tell you. No sir, I'm old enough
to know when I'm well off, and home's the best place for me. I want my
own table, and my own bed when it comes night." She paused, and then
remarked meditatively:
"I went down to visit in New York once."
"Didn't you enjoy your visit?" Maxwell inquired. "New York's my
home-city."
"Can't say I did, awful much. You see, I was visitin' Sally
Ramsdale--Sally Greenway that was. They were livin' in an apartment,
ninth floor up. In the first place, I didn't like goin' up stairs in
the elevator. I was so scared, I felt as if the end had come, and I
was bein' jerked to my reward in an iron birdcage with a
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