erstood to have money, and Sanders let us think her merely
greedy. We drifted into his opinions.

Had Jess been one of those who could go about, she would, I think, have
read Nanny better than the rest of us, for her intellect was bright,
and always led her straight to her neighbours' hearts. But Nanny
visited no one, and so Jess only knew her by hearsay. Nanny's
standoffishness, as it was called, was not a popular virtue, and she
was blamed still more for trying to keep her husband out of other
people's houses. He was so frank and full of gossip, and she was so
reserved. He would go everywhere, and she nowhere. He had been known
to ask neighbours to tea, and she had shown that she wanted them away,
or even begged them not to come. We were not accustomed to go behind
the face of a thing, and so we set down Nanny's inhospitality to
churlishness or greed. Only after her death, when other women had to
attend him, did we get to know what a tyrant Sanders was at his own
hearth. The ambition of Nanny's life was that we should never know it,
that we should continue extolling him, and say what we chose about
herself. She knew that if we went much about the house and saw how he
treated her, Sanders would cease to be a respected man in Thrums.

So neat in his dress was Sanders, that he was seldom seen abroad in
corduroys. His blue bonnet for everyday wear was such as even
well-to-do farmers only wore at fair-time, and it was said that he had
a handkerchief for every day in the week. Jess often held him up to
Hendry as a model of courtesy and polite manners.

"Him an' Nanny's no weel matched," she used to say, "for he has grand
ideas, an' she's o' the commonest. It maun be a richt trial to a man
wi' his fine tastes to hae a wife 'at's wrapper's never even on, an'
wha doesna wash her mutch aince in a month."

It is true that Nanny was a slattern, but only because she married into
slavery. She was kept so busy washing and ironing for Sanders that she
ceased to care how she looked herself. What did it matter whether her
mutch was clean? Weaving and washing and cooking, doing the work of a
breadwinner as well as of a housewife, hers was soon a body prematurely
old, on which no wrapper would sit becomingly. Before her face,
Sanders would hint that her slovenly ways and dress tried him sorely,
and in company at least she only bowed her head. We were given to
respecting those who worked hard, but Nanny, we thought, w