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+<!DOCTYPE html>
+<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en">
+ <head>
+ <meta charset="UTF-8">
+ <title>Ethan Frome | Project Gutenberg</title>
+ <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover">
+<style>
+
+ body { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify;}
+ P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; }
+ h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; }
+ hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;}
+ .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; }
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+ .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;}
+ .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;}
+ .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;}
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+ div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; }
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+ font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; }
+</style>
+ </head>
+ <body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 4517 ***</div>
+
+
+ <h1>
+ ETHAN FROME
+ </h1>
+ <p>
+ <br><br>
+ </p>
+ <div class='ph2'>
+ By Edith Wharton
+ </div>
+ <p>
+ <br> <br>
+ </p>
+ <hr>
+ <p>
+ <br> <br>
+ </p>
+ <blockquote>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <span class='big'><b>CONTENTS</b></span>
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>ETHAN FROME</b> </a><br><br><br>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> III    </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> IV </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> V </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> VI    </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VII </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VIII </a>
+ </p>
+ <p class="toc">
+ <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> IX </a>
+ </p>
+ </blockquote>
+ <p>
+ <br> <br>
+ </p>
+ <hr>
+ <p>
+ <br> <br> <a id="link2H_4_0001">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br><br><br><br>
+ </div>
+ <div class='chapter'><h2>
+ ETHAN FROME
+ </h2></div>
+ <p>
+ I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally
+ happens in such cases, each time it was a different story.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ If you know Starkfield, Massachusetts, you know the post-office. If you
+ know the post-office you must have seen Ethan Frome drive up to it, drop
+ the reins on his hollow-backed bay and drag himself across the brick
+ pavement to the white colonnade; and you must have asked who he was.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was there that, several years ago, I saw him for the first time; and
+ the sight pulled me up sharp. Even then he was the most striking figure in
+ Starkfield, though he was but the ruin of a man. It was not so much his
+ great height that marked him, for the “natives” were easily singled out by
+ their lank longitude from the stockier foreign breed: it was the careless
+ powerful look he had, in spite of a lameness checking each step like the
+ jerk of a chain. There was something bleak and unapproachable in his face,
+ and he was so stiffened and grizzled that I took him for an old man and
+ was surprised to hear that he was not more than fifty-two. I had this from
+ Harmon Gow, who had driven the stage from Bettsbridge to Starkfield in
+ pre-trolley days and knew the chronicle of all the families on his line.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “He’s looked that way ever since he had his smash-up; and that’s
+ twenty-four years ago come next February,” Harmon threw out between
+ reminiscent pauses.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The “smash-up” it was—I gathered from the same informant—which,
+ besides drawing the red gash across Ethan Frome’s forehead, had so
+ shortened and warped his right side that it cost him a visible effort to
+ take the few steps from his buggy to the post-office window. He used to
+ drive in from his farm every day at about noon, and as that was my own
+ hour for fetching my mail I often passed him in the porch or stood beside
+ him while we waited on the motions of the distributing hand behind the
+ grating. I noticed that, though he came so punctually, he seldom received
+ anything but a copy of the <cite>Bettsbridge Eagle</cite>, which he put without a
+ glance into his sagging pocket. At intervals, however, the post-master
+ would hand him an envelope addressed to Mrs. Zenobia—or Mrs.
+ Zeena—Frome, and usually bearing conspicuously in the upper left-hand
+ corner the address of some manufacturer of patent medicine and the name of
+ his specific. These documents my neighbour would also pocket without a
+ glance, as if too much used to them to wonder at their number and variety,
+ and would then turn away with a silent nod to the post-master.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Every one in Starkfield knew him and gave him a greeting tempered to his
+ own grave mien; but his taciturnity was respected and it was only on rare
+ occasions that one of the older men of the place detained him for a word.
+ When this happened he would listen quietly, his blue eyes on the speaker’s
+ face, and answer in so low a tone that his words never reached me; then he
+ would climb stiffly into his buggy, gather up the reins in his left hand
+ and drive slowly away in the direction of his farm.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “It was a pretty bad smash-up?” I questioned Harmon, looking after Frome’s
+ retreating figure, and thinking how gallantly his lean brown head, with
+ its shock of light hair, must have sat on his strong shoulders before they
+ were bent out of shape.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Wust kind,” my informant assented. “More’n enough to kill most men. But
+ the Fromes are tough. Ethan’ll likely touch a hundred.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Good God!” I exclaimed. At the moment Ethan Frome, after climbing to his
+ seat, had leaned over to assure himself of the security of a wooden box—also
+ with a druggist’s label on it—which he had placed in the back of the
+ buggy, and I saw his face as it probably looked when he thought himself
+ alone. “<i>That</i> man touch a hundred? He looks as if he was dead and in hell
+ now!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Harmon drew a slab of tobacco from his pocket, cut off a wedge and pressed
+ it into the leather pouch of his cheek. “Guess he’s been in Starkfield too
+ many winters. Most of the smart ones get away.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why didn’t <i>he</i>?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Somebody had to stay and care for the folks. There warn’t ever anybody
+ but Ethan. Fust his father—then his mother—then his wife.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “And then the smash-up?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Harmon chuckled sardonically. “That’s so. He <i>had</i> to stay then.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I see. And since then they’ve had to care for him?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Harmon thoughtfully passed his tobacco to the other cheek. “Oh, as to
+ that: I guess it’s always Ethan done the caring.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Though Harmon Gow developed the tale as far as his mental and moral reach
+ permitted there were perceptible gaps between his facts, and I had the
+ sense that the deeper meaning of the story was in the gaps. But one phrase
+ stuck in my memory and served as the nucleus about which I grouped my
+ subsequent inferences: “Guess he’s been in Starkfield too many winters.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Before my own time there was up I had learned to know what that meant. Yet
+ I had come in the degenerate day of trolley, bicycle and rural delivery,
+ when communication was easy between the scattered mountain villages, and
+ the bigger towns in the valleys, such as Bettsbridge and Shadd’s Falls,
+ had libraries, theatres and Y. M. C. A. halls to which the youth of the
+ hills could descend for recreation. But when winter shut down on
+ Starkfield and the village lay under a sheet of snow perpetually renewed
+ from the pale skies, I began to see what life there—or rather its
+ negation—must have been in Ethan Frome’s young manhood.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I had been sent up by my employers on a job connected with the big
+ power-house at Corbury Junction, and a long-drawn carpenters’ strike had
+ so delayed the work that I found myself anchored at Starkfield—the
+ nearest habitable spot—for the best part of the winter. I chafed at
+ first, and then, under the hypnotising effect of routine, gradually began
+ to find a grim satisfaction in the life. During the early part of my stay
+ I had been struck by the contrast between the vitality of the climate and
+ the deadness of the community. Day by day, after the December snows were
+ over, a blazing blue sky poured down torrents of light and air on the
+ white landscape, which gave them back in an intenser glitter. One would
+ have supposed that such an atmosphere must quicken the emotions as well as
+ the blood; but it seemed to produce no change except that of retarding
+ still more the sluggish pulse of Starkfield. When I had been there a
+ little longer, and had seen this phase of crystal clearness followed by
+ long stretches of sunless cold; when the storms of February had pitched
+ their white tents about the devoted village and the wild cavalry of March
+ winds had charged down to their support; I began to understand why
+ Starkfield emerged from its six months’ siege like a starved garrison
+ capitulating without quarter. Twenty years earlier the means of resistance
+ must have been far fewer, and the enemy in command of almost all the lines
+ of access between the beleaguered villages; and, considering these things,
+ I felt the sinister force of Harmon’s phrase: “Most of the smart ones get
+ away.” But if that were the case, how could any combination of obstacles
+ have hindered the flight of a man like Ethan Frome?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ During my stay at Starkfield I lodged with a middle-aged widow
+ colloquially known as Mrs. Ned Hale. Mrs. Hale’s father had been the
+ village lawyer of the previous generation, and “lawyer Varnum’s house,”
+ where my landlady still lived with her mother, was the most considerable
+ mansion in the village. It stood at one end of the main street, its
+ classic portico and small-paned windows looking down a flagged path
+ between Norway spruces to the slim white steeple of the Congregational
+ church. It was clear that the Varnum fortunes were at the ebb, but the two
+ women did what they could to preserve a decent dignity; and Mrs. Hale, in
+ particular, had a certain wan refinement not out of keeping with her pale
+ old-fashioned house.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ In the “best parlour,” with its black horse-hair and mahogany weakly
+ illuminated by a gurgling Carcel lamp, I listened every evening to another
+ and more delicately shaded version of the Starkfield chronicle. It was not
+ that Mrs. Ned Hale felt, or affected, any social superiority to the people
+ about her; it was only that the accident of a finer sensibility and a
+ little more education had put just enough distance between herself and her
+ neighbours to enable her to judge them with detachment. She was not
+ unwilling to exercise this faculty, and I had great hopes of getting from
+ her the missing facts of Ethan Frome’s story, or rather such a key to his
+ character as should co-ordinate the facts I knew. Her mind was a
+ store-house of innocuous anecdote and any question about her acquaintances
+ brought forth a volume of detail; but on the subject of Ethan Frome I
+ found her unexpectedly reticent. There was no hint of disapproval in her
+ reserve; I merely felt in her an insurmountable reluctance to speak of him
+ or his affairs, a low “Yes, I knew them both... it was awful ...” seeming
+ to be the utmost concession that her distress could make to my curiosity.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ So marked was the change in her manner, such depths of sad initiation did
+ it imply, that, with some doubts as to my delicacy, I put the case anew to
+ my village oracle, Harmon Gow; but got for my pains only an
+ uncomprehending grunt.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Ruth Varnum was always as nervous as a rat; and, come to think of it, she
+ was the first one to see ’em after they was picked up. It happened right
+ below lawyer Varnum’s, down at the bend of the Corbury road, just round
+ about the time that Ruth got engaged to Ned Hale. The young folks was all
+ friends, and I guess she just can’t bear to talk about it. She’s had
+ troubles enough of her own.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ All the dwellers in Starkfield, as in more notable communities, had had
+ troubles enough of their own to make them comparatively indifferent to
+ those of their neighbours; and though all conceded that Ethan Frome’s had
+ been beyond the common measure, no one gave me an explanation of the look
+ in his face which, as I persisted in thinking, neither poverty nor
+ physical suffering could have put there. Nevertheless, I might have
+ contented myself with the story pieced together from these hints had it
+ not been for the provocation of Mrs. Hale’s silence, and—a little
+ later—for the accident of personal contact with the man.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ On my arrival at Starkfield, Denis Eady, the rich Irish grocer, who was
+ the proprietor of Starkfield’s nearest approach to a livery stable, had
+ entered into an agreement to send me over daily to Corbury Flats, where I
+ had to pick up my train for the Junction. But about the middle of the
+ winter Eady’s horses fell ill of a local epidemic. The illness spread to
+ the other Starkfield stables and for a day or two I was put to it to find
+ a means of transport. Then Harmon Gow suggested that Ethan Frome’s bay was
+ still on his legs and that his owner might be glad to drive me over.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I stared at the suggestion. “Ethan Frome? But I’ve never even spoken to
+ him. Why on earth should he put himself out for me?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Harmon’s answer surprised me still more. “I don’t know as he would; but I
+ know he wouldn’t be sorry to earn a dollar.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I had been told that Frome was poor, and that the saw-mill and the arid
+ acres of his farm yielded scarcely enough to keep his household through
+ the winter; but I had not supposed him to be in such want as Harmon’s
+ words implied, and I expressed my wonder.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well, matters ain’t gone any too well with him,” Harmon said. “When a
+ man’s been setting round like a hulk for twenty years or more, seeing
+ things that want doing, it eats inter him, and he loses his grit. That
+ Frome farm was always ’bout as bare’s a milkpan when the cat’s been round;
+ and you know what one of them old water-mills is wuth nowadays. When Ethan
+ could sweat over ’em both from sunup to dark he kinder choked a living out
+ of ’em; but his folks ate up most everything, even then, and I don’t see
+ how he makes out now. Fust his father got a kick, out haying, and went
+ soft in the brain, and gave away money like Bible texts afore he died.
+ Then his mother got queer and dragged along for years as weak as a baby;
+ and his wife Zeena, she’s always been the greatest hand at doctoring in
+ the county. Sickness and trouble: that’s what Ethan’s had his plate full
+ up with, ever since the very first helping.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The next morning, when I looked out, I saw the hollow-backed bay between
+ the Varnum spruces, and Ethan Frome, throwing back his worn bearskin, made
+ room for me in the sleigh at his side. After that, for a week, he drove me
+ over every morning to Corbury Flats, and on my return in the afternoon met
+ me again and carried me back through the icy night to Starkfield. The
+ distance each way was barely three miles, but the old bay’s pace was slow,
+ and even with firm snow under the runners we were nearly an hour on the
+ way. Ethan Frome drove in silence, the reins loosely held in his left
+ hand, his brown seamed profile, under the helmet-like peak of the cap,
+ relieved against the banks of snow like the bronze image of a hero. He
+ never turned his face to mine, or answered, except in monosyllables, the
+ questions I put, or such slight pleasantries as I ventured. He seemed a
+ part of the mute melancholy landscape, an incarnation of its frozen woe,
+ with all that was warm and sentient in him fast bound below the surface;
+ but there was nothing unfriendly in his silence. I simply felt that he
+ lived in a depth of moral isolation too remote for casual access, and I
+ had the sense that his loneliness was not merely the result of his
+ personal plight, tragic as I guessed that to be, but had in it, as Harmon
+ Gow had hinted, the profound accumulated cold of many Starkfield winters.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Only once or twice was the distance between us bridged for a moment; and
+ the glimpses thus gained confirmed my desire to know more. Once I happened
+ to speak of an engineering job I had been on the previous year in Florida,
+ and of the contrast between the winter landscape about us and that in
+ which I had found myself the year before; and to my surprise Frome said
+ suddenly: “Yes: I was down there once, and for a good while afterward I
+ could call up the sight of it in winter. But now it’s all snowed under.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He said no more, and I had to guess the rest from the inflection of his
+ voice and his sharp relapse into silence.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Another day, on getting into my train at the Flats, I missed a volume of
+ popular science—I think it was on some recent discoveries in
+ bio-chemistry—which I had carried with me to read on the way. I
+ thought no more about it till I got into the sleigh again that evening,
+ and saw the book in Frome’s hand.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I found it after you were gone,” he said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I put the volume into my pocket and we dropped back into our usual
+ silence; but as we began to crawl up the long hill from Corbury Flats to
+ the Starkfield ridge I became aware in the dusk that he had turned his
+ face to mine.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “There are things in that book that I didn’t know the first word about,”
+ he said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I wondered less at his words than at the queer note of resentment in his
+ voice. He was evidently surprised and slightly aggrieved at his own
+ ignorance.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Does that sort of thing interest you?” I asked.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “It used to.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “There are one or two rather new things in the book: there have been some
+ big strides lately in that particular line of research.” I waited a moment
+ for an answer that did not come; then I said: “If you’d like to look the
+ book through I’d be glad to leave it with you.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He hesitated, and I had the impression that he felt himself about to yield
+ to a stealing tide of inertia; then, “Thank you—I’ll take it,” he
+ answered shortly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I hoped that this incident might set up some more direct communication
+ between us. Frome was so simple and straightforward that I was sure his
+ curiosity about the book was based on a genuine interest in its subject.
+ Such tastes and acquirements in a man of his condition made the contrast
+ more poignant between his outer situation and his inner needs, and I hoped
+ that the chance of giving expression to the latter might at least unseal
+ his lips. But something in his past history, or in his present way of
+ living, had apparently driven him too deeply into himself for any casual
+ impulse to draw him back to his kind. At our next meeting he made no
+ allusion to the book, and our intercourse seemed fated to remain as
+ negative and one-sided as if there had been no break in his reserve.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Frome had been driving me over to the Flats for about a week when one
+ morning I looked out of my window into a thick snow-fall. The height of
+ the white waves massed against the garden-fence and along the wall of the
+ church showed that the storm must have been going on all night, and that
+ the drifts were likely to be heavy in the open. I thought it probable that
+ my train would be delayed; but I had to be at the power-house for an hour
+ or two that afternoon, and I decided, if Frome turned up, to push through
+ to the Flats and wait there till my train came in. I don’t know why I put
+ it in the conditional, however, for I never doubted that Frome would
+ appear. He was not the kind of man to be turned from his business by any
+ commotion of the elements; and at the appointed hour his sleigh glided up
+ through the snow like a stage-apparition behind thickening veils of gauze.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I was getting to know him too well to express either wonder or gratitude
+ at his keeping his appointment; but I exclaimed in surprise as I saw him
+ turn his horse in a direction opposite to that of the Corbury road.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “The railroad’s blocked by a freight-train that got stuck in a drift below
+ the Flats,” he explained, as we jogged off into the stinging whiteness.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “But look here—where are you taking me, then?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Straight to the Junction, by the shortest way,” he answered, pointing up
+ School House Hill with his whip.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “To the Junction—in this storm? Why, it’s a good ten miles!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “The bay’ll do it if you give him time. You said you had some business
+ there this afternoon. I’ll see you get there.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He said it so quietly that I could only answer: “You’re doing me the
+ biggest kind of a favour.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “That’s all right,” he rejoined.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Abreast of the schoolhouse the road forked, and we dipped down a lane to
+ the left, between hemlock boughs bent inward to their trunks by the weight
+ of the snow. I had often walked that way on Sundays, and knew that the
+ solitary roof showing through bare branches near the bottom of the hill
+ was that of Frome’s saw-mill. It looked exanimate enough, with its idle
+ wheel looming above the black stream dashed with yellow-white spume, and
+ its cluster of sheds sagging under their white load. Frome did not even
+ turn his head as we drove by, and still in silence we began to mount the
+ next slope. About a mile farther, on a road I had never travelled, we came
+ to an orchard of starved apple-trees writhing over a hillside among
+ outcroppings of slate that nuzzled up through the snow like animals
+ pushing out their noses to breathe. Beyond the orchard lay a field or two,
+ their boundaries lost under drifts; and above the fields, huddled against
+ the white immensities of land and sky, one of those lonely New England
+ farm-houses that make the landscape lonelier.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “That’s my place,” said Frome, with a sideway jerk of his lame elbow; and
+ in the distress and oppression of the scene I did not know what to answer.
+ The snow had ceased, and a flash of watery sunlight exposed the house on
+ the slope above us in all its plaintive ugliness. The black wraith of a
+ deciduous creeper flapped from the porch, and the thin wooden walls, under
+ their worn coat of paint, seemed to shiver in the wind that had risen with
+ the ceasing of the snow.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “The house was bigger in my father’s time: I had to take down the ‘L,’ a
+ while back,” Frome continued, checking with a twitch of the left rein the
+ bay’s evident intention of turning in through the broken-down gate.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I saw then that the unusually forlorn and stunted look of the house was
+ partly due to the loss of what is known in New England as the “L”: that
+ long deep-roofed adjunct usually built at right angles to the main house,
+ and connecting it, by way of storerooms and tool-house, with the wood-shed
+ and cow-barn. Whether because of its symbolic sense, the image it presents
+ of a life linked with the soil, and enclosing in itself the chief sources
+ of warmth and nourishment, or whether merely because of the consolatory
+ thought that it enables the dwellers in that harsh climate to get to their
+ morning’s work without facing the weather, it is certain that the “L”
+ rather than the house itself seems to be the centre, the actual
+ hearth-stone of the New England farm. Perhaps this connection of ideas,
+ which had often occurred to me in my rambles about Starkfield, caused me
+ to hear a wistful note in Frome’s words, and to see in the diminished
+ dwelling the image of his own shrunken body.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “We’re kinder side-tracked here now,” he added, “but there was
+ considerable passing before the railroad was carried through to the
+ Flats.” He roused the lagging bay with another twitch; then, as if the
+ mere sight of the house had let me too deeply into his confidence for any
+ farther pretence of reserve, he went on slowly: “I’ve always set down the
+ worst of mother’s trouble to that. When she got the rheumatism so bad she
+ couldn’t move around she used to sit up there and watch the road by the
+ hour; and one year, when they was six months mending the Bettsbridge pike
+ after the floods, and Harmon Gow had to bring his stage round this way,
+ she picked up so that she used to get down to the gate most days to see
+ him. But after the trains begun running nobody ever come by here to speak
+ of, and mother never could get it through her head what had happened, and
+ it preyed on her right along till she died.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As we turned into the Corbury road the snow began to fall again, cutting
+ off our last glimpse of the house; and Frome’s silence fell with it,
+ letting down between us the old veil of reticence. This time the wind did
+ not cease with the return of the snow. Instead, it sprang up to a gale
+ which now and then, from a tattered sky, flung pale sweeps of sunlight
+ over a landscape chaotically tossed. But the bay was as good as Frome’s
+ word, and we pushed on to the Junction through the wild white scene.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ In the afternoon the storm held off, and the clearness in the west seemed
+ to my inexperienced eye the pledge of a fair evening. I finished my
+ business as quickly as possible, and we set out for Starkfield with a good
+ chance of getting there for supper. But at sunset the clouds gathered
+ again, bringing an earlier night, and the snow began to fall straight and
+ steadily from a sky without wind, in a soft universal diffusion more
+ confusing than the gusts and eddies of the morning. It seemed to be a part
+ of the thickening darkness, to be the winter night itself descending on us
+ layer by layer.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The small ray of Frome’s lantern was soon lost in this smothering medium,
+ in which even his sense of direction, and the bay’s homing instinct,
+ finally ceased to serve us. Two or three times some ghostly landmark
+ sprang up to warn us that we were astray, and then was sucked back into
+ the mist; and when we finally regained our road the old horse began to
+ show signs of exhaustion. I felt myself to blame for having accepted
+ Frome’s offer, and after a short discussion I persuaded him to let me get
+ out of the sleigh and walk along through the snow at the bay’s side. In
+ this way we struggled on for another mile or two, and at last reached a
+ point where Frome, peering into what seemed to me formless night, said:
+ “That’s my gate down yonder.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The last stretch had been the hardest part of the way. The bitter cold and
+ the heavy going had nearly knocked the wind out of me, and I could feel
+ the horse’s side ticking like a clock under my hand.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Look here, Frome,” I began, “there’s no earthly use in your going any
+ farther—” but he interrupted me: “Nor you neither. There’s been
+ about enough of this for anybody.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I understood that he was offering me a night’s shelter at the farm, and
+ without answering I turned into the gate at his side, and followed him to
+ the barn, where I helped him to unharness and bed down the tired horse.
+ When this was done he unhooked the lantern from the sleigh, stepped out
+ again into the night, and called to me over his shoulder: “This way.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Far off above us a square of light trembled through the screen of snow.
+ Staggering along in Frome’s wake I floundered toward it, and in the
+ darkness almost fell into one of the deep drifts against the front of the
+ house. Frome scrambled up the slippery steps of the porch, digging a way
+ through the snow with his heavily booted foot. Then he lifted his lantern,
+ found the latch, and led the way into the house. I went after him into a
+ low unlit passage, at the back of which a ladder-like staircase rose into
+ obscurity. On our right a line of light marked the door of the room which
+ had sent its ray across the night; and behind the door I heard a woman’s
+ voice droning querulously.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Frome stamped on the worn oil-cloth to shake the snow from his boots, and
+ set down his lantern on a kitchen chair which was the only piece of
+ furniture in the hall. Then he opened the door.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Come in,” he said; and as he spoke the droning voice grew still....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was that night that I found the clue to Ethan Frome, and began to put
+ together this vision of his story.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <br> <br>
+ </p>
+ <hr>
+ <p>
+ <br> <br> <a id="link2H_4_0002">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div class='chapter'><h2>
+ I
+ </h2></div>
+ <p>
+ The village lay under two feet of snow, with drifts at the windy corners.
+ In a sky of iron the points of the Dipper hung like icicles and Orion
+ flashed his cold fires. The moon had set, but the night was so transparent
+ that the white house-fronts between the elms looked gray against the snow,
+ clumps of bushes made black stains on it, and the basement windows of the
+ church sent shafts of yellow light far across the endless undulations.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Young Ethan Frome walked at a quick pace along the deserted street, past
+ the bank and Michael Eady’s new brick store and Lawyer Varnum’s house with
+ the two black Norway spruces at the gate. Opposite the Varnum gate, where
+ the road fell away toward the Corbury valley, the church reared its slim
+ white steeple and narrow peristyle. As the young man walked toward it the
+ upper windows drew a black arcade along the side wall of the building, but
+ from the lower openings, on the side where the ground sloped steeply down
+ to the Corbury road, the light shot its long bars, illuminating many fresh
+ furrows in the track leading to the basement door, and showing, under an
+ adjoining shed, a line of sleighs with heavily blanketed horses.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The night was perfectly still, and the air so dry and pure that it gave
+ little sensation of cold. The effect produced on Frome was rather of a
+ complete absence of atmosphere, as though nothing less tenuous than ether
+ intervened between the white earth under his feet and the metallic dome
+ overhead. “It’s like being in an exhausted receiver,” he thought. Four or
+ five years earlier he had taken a year’s course at a technological college
+ at Worcester, and dabbled in the laboratory with a friendly professor of
+ physics; and the images supplied by that experience still cropped up, at
+ unexpected moments, through the totally different associations of thought
+ in which he had since been living. His father’s death, and the misfortunes
+ following it, had put a premature end to Ethan’s studies; but though they
+ had not gone far enough to be of much practical use they had fed his fancy
+ and made him aware of huge cloudy meanings behind the daily face of
+ things.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As he strode along through the snow the sense of such meanings glowed in
+ his brain and mingled with the bodily flush produced by his sharp tramp.
+ At the end of the village he paused before the darkened front of the
+ church. He stood there a moment, breathing quickly, and looking up and
+ down the street, in which not another figure moved. The pitch of the
+ Corbury road, below lawyer Varnum’s spruces, was the favourite
+ coasting-ground of Starkfield, and on clear evenings the church corner
+ rang till late with the shouts of the coasters; but to-night not a sled
+ darkened the whiteness of the long declivity. The hush of midnight lay on
+ the village, and all its waking life was gathered behind the church
+ windows, from which strains of dance-music flowed with the broad bands of
+ yellow light.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The young man, skirting the side of the building, went down the slope
+ toward the basement door. To keep out of range of the revealing rays from
+ within he made a circuit through the untrodden snow and gradually
+ approached the farther angle of the basement wall. Thence, still hugging
+ the shadow, he edged his way cautiously forward to the nearest window,
+ holding back his straight spare body and craning his neck till he got a
+ glimpse of the room.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Seen thus, from the pure and frosty darkness in which he stood, it seemed
+ to be seething in a mist of heat. The metal reflectors of the gas-jets
+ sent crude waves of light against the whitewashed walls, and the iron
+ flanks of the stove at the end of the hall looked as though they were
+ heaving with volcanic fires. The floor was thronged with girls and young
+ men. Down the side wall facing the window stood a row of kitchen chairs
+ from which the older women had just risen. By this time the music had
+ stopped, and the musicians—a fiddler, and the young lady who played
+ the harmonium on Sundays—were hastily refreshing themselves at one
+ corner of the supper-table which aligned its devastated pie-dishes and
+ ice-cream saucers on the platform at the end of the hall. The guests were
+ preparing to leave, and the tide had already set toward the passage where
+ coats and wraps were hung, when a young man with a sprightly foot and a
+ shock of black hair shot into the middle of the floor and clapped his
+ hands. The signal took instant effect. The musicians hurried to their
+ instruments, the dancers—some already half-muffled for departure—fell
+ into line down each side of the room, the older spectators slipped back to
+ their chairs, and the lively young man, after diving about here and there
+ in the throng, drew forth a girl who had already wound a cherry-coloured
+ “fascinator” about her head, and, leading her up to the end of the floor,
+ whirled her down its length to the bounding tune of a Virginia reel.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Frome’s heart was beating fast. He had been straining for a glimpse of the
+ dark head under the cherry-coloured scarf and it vexed him that another
+ eye should have been quicker than his. The leader of the reel, who looked
+ as if he had Irish blood in his veins, danced well, and his partner caught
+ his fire. As she passed down the line, her light figure swinging from hand
+ to hand in circles of increasing swiftness, the scarf flew off her head
+ and stood out behind her shoulders, and Frome, at each turn, caught sight
+ of her laughing panting lips, the cloud of dark hair about her forehead,
+ and the dark eyes which seemed the only fixed points in a maze of flying
+ lines.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The dancers were going faster and faster, and the musicians, to keep up
+ with them, belaboured their instruments like jockeys lashing their mounts
+ on the home-stretch; yet it seemed to the young man at the window that the
+ reel would never end. Now and then he turned his eyes from the girl’s face
+ to that of her partner, which, in the exhilaration of the dance, had taken
+ on a look of almost impudent ownership. Denis Eady was the son of Michael
+ Eady, the ambitious Irish grocer, whose suppleness and effrontery had
+ given Starkfield its first notion of “smart” business methods, and whose
+ new brick store testified to the success of the attempt. His son seemed
+ likely to follow in his steps, and was meanwhile applying the same arts to
+ the conquest of the Starkfield maidenhood. Hitherto Ethan Frome had been
+ content to think him a mean fellow; but now he positively invited a
+ horse-whipping. It was strange that the girl did not seem aware of it:
+ that she could lift her rapt face to her dancer’s, and drop her hands into
+ his, without appearing to feel the offence of his look and touch.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Frome was in the habit of walking into Starkfield to fetch home his wife’s
+ cousin, Mattie Silver, on the rare evenings when some chance of amusement
+ drew her to the village. It was his wife who had suggested, when the girl
+ came to live with them, that such opportunities should be put in her way.
+ Mattie Silver came from Stamford, and when she entered the Fromes’
+ household to act as her cousin Zeena’s aid it was thought best, as she
+ came without pay, not to let her feel too sharp a contrast between the
+ life she had left and the isolation of a Starkfield farm. But for this—as
+ Frome sardonically reflected—it would hardly have occurred to Zeena
+ to take any thought for the girl’s amusement.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When his wife first proposed that they should give Mattie an occasional
+ evening out he had inwardly demurred at having to do the extra two miles
+ to the village and back after his hard day on the farm; but not long
+ afterward he had reached the point of wishing that Starkfield might give
+ all its nights to revelry.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie Silver had lived under his roof for a year, and from early morning
+ till they met at supper he had frequent chances of seeing her; but no
+ moments in her company were comparable to those when, her arm in his, and
+ her light step flying to keep time with his long stride, they walked back
+ through the night to the farm. He had taken to the girl from the first
+ day, when he had driven over to the Flats to meet her, and she had smiled
+ and waved to him from the train, crying out, “You must be Ethan!” as she
+ jumped down with her bundles, while he reflected, looking over her slight
+ person: “She don’t look much on housework, but she ain’t a fretter,
+ anyhow.” But it was not only that the coming to his house of a bit of
+ hopeful young life was like the lighting of a fire on a cold hearth. The
+ girl was more than the bright serviceable creature he had thought her. She
+ had an eye to see and an ear to hear: he could show her things and tell
+ her things, and taste the bliss of feeling that all he imparted left long
+ reverberations and echoes he could wake at will.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was during their night walks back to the farm that he felt most
+ intensely the sweetness of this communion. He had always been more
+ sensitive than the people about him to the appeal of natural beauty. His
+ unfinished studies had given form to this sensibility and even in his
+ unhappiest moments field and sky spoke to him with a deep and powerful
+ persuasion. But hitherto the emotion had remained in him as a silent ache,
+ veiling with sadness the beauty that evoked it. He did not even know
+ whether any one else in the world felt as he did, or whether he was the
+ sole victim of this mournful privilege. Then he learned that one other
+ spirit had trembled with the same touch of wonder: that at his side,
+ living under his roof and eating his bread, was a creature to whom he
+ could say: “That’s Orion down yonder; the big fellow to the right is
+ Aldebaran, and the bunch of little ones—like bees swarming—they’re
+ the Pleiades ...” or whom he could hold entranced before a ledge of granite
+ thrusting up through the fern while he unrolled the huge panorama of the
+ ice age, and the long dim stretches of succeeding time. The fact that
+ admiration for his learning mingled with Mattie’s wonder at what he taught
+ was not the least part of his pleasure. And there were other sensations,
+ less definable but more exquisite, which drew them together with a shock
+ of silent joy: the cold red of sunset behind winter hills, the flight of
+ cloud-flocks over slopes of golden stubble, or the intensely blue shadows
+ of hemlocks on sunlit snow. When she said to him once: “It looks just as
+ if it was painted!” it seemed to Ethan that the art of definition could go
+ no farther, and that words had at last been found to utter his secret
+ soul....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As he stood in the darkness outside the church these memories came back
+ with the poignancy of vanished things. Watching Mattie whirl down the
+ floor from hand to hand he wondered how he could ever have thought that
+ his dull talk interested her. To him, who was never gay but in her
+ presence, her gaiety seemed plain proof of indifference. The face she
+ lifted to her dancers was the same which, when she saw him, always looked
+ like a window that has caught the sunset. He even noticed two or three
+ gestures which, in his fatuity, he had thought she kept for him: a way of
+ throwing her head back when she was amused, as if to taste her laugh
+ before she let it out, and a trick of sinking her lids slowly when
+ anything charmed or moved her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The sight made him unhappy, and his unhappiness roused his latent fears.
+ His wife had never shown any jealousy of Mattie, but of late she had
+ grumbled increasingly over the house-work and found oblique ways of
+ attracting attention to the girl’s inefficiency. Zeena had always been
+ what Starkfield called “sickly,” and Frome had to admit that, if she were
+ as ailing as she believed, she needed the help of a stronger arm than the
+ one which lay so lightly in his during the night walks to the farm. Mattie
+ had no natural turn for housekeeping, and her training had done nothing to
+ remedy the defect. She was quick to learn, but forgetful and dreamy, and
+ not disposed to take the matter seriously. Ethan had an idea that if she
+ were to marry a man she was fond of the dormant instinct would wake, and
+ her pies and biscuits become the pride of the county; but domesticity in
+ the abstract did not interest her. At first she was so awkward that he
+ could not help laughing at her; but she laughed with him and that made
+ them better friends. He did his best to supplement her unskilled efforts,
+ getting up earlier than usual to light the kitchen fire, carrying in the
+ wood overnight, and neglecting the mill for the farm that he might help
+ her about the house during the day. He even crept down on Saturday nights
+ to scrub the kitchen floor after the women had gone to bed; and Zeena, one
+ day, had surprised him at the churn and had turned away silently, with one
+ of her queer looks.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Of late there had been other signs of her disfavour, as intangible but
+ more disquieting. One cold winter morning, as he dressed in the dark, his
+ candle flickering in the draught of the ill-fitting window, he had heard
+ her speak from the bed behind him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “The doctor don’t want I should be left without anybody to do for me,” she
+ said in her flat whine.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He had supposed her to be asleep, and the sound of her voice had startled
+ him, though she was given to abrupt explosions of speech after long
+ intervals of secretive silence.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He turned and looked at her where she lay indistinctly outlined under the
+ dark calico quilt, her high-boned face taking a grayish tinge from the
+ whiteness of the pillow.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Nobody to do for you?” he repeated.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “If you say you can’t afford a hired girl when Mattie goes.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Frome turned away again, and taking up his razor stooped to catch the
+ reflection of his stretched cheek in the blotched looking-glass above the
+ wash-stand.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why on earth should Mattie go?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well, when she gets married, I mean,” his wife’s drawl came from behind
+ him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, she’d never leave us as long as you needed her,” he returned,
+ scraping hard at his chin.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I wouldn’t ever have it said that I stood in the way of a poor girl like
+ Mattie marrying a smart fellow like Denis Eady,” Zeena answered in a tone
+ of plaintive self-effacement.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan, glaring at his face in the glass, threw his head back to draw the
+ razor from ear to chin. His hand was steady, but the attitude was an
+ excuse for not making an immediate reply.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “And the doctor don’t want I should be left without anybody,” Zeena
+ continued. “He wanted I should speak to you about a girl he’s heard about,
+ that might come—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan laid down the razor and straightened himself with a laugh.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Denis Eady! If that’s all, I guess there’s no such hurry to look round
+ for a girl.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well, I’d like to talk to you about it,” said Zeena obstinately.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He was getting into his clothes in fumbling haste. “All right. But I
+ haven’t got the time now; I’m late as it is,” he returned, holding his old
+ silver turnip-watch to the candle.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena, apparently accepting this as final, lay watching him in silence
+ while he pulled his suspenders over his shoulders and jerked his arms into
+ his coat; but as he went toward the door she said, suddenly and
+ incisively: “I guess you’re always late, now you shave every morning.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ That thrust had frightened him more than any vague insinuations about
+ Denis Eady. It was a fact that since Mattie Silver’s coming he had taken
+ to shaving every day; but his wife always seemed to be asleep when he left
+ her side in the winter darkness, and he had stupidly assumed that she
+ would not notice any change in his appearance. Once or twice in the past
+ he had been faintly disquieted by Zenobia’s way of letting things happen
+ without seeming to remark them, and then, weeks afterward, in a casual
+ phrase, revealing that she had all along taken her notes and drawn her
+ inferences. Of late, however, there had been no room in his thoughts for
+ such vague apprehensions. Zeena herself, from an oppressive reality, had
+ faded into an insubstantial shade. All his life was lived in the sight and
+ sound of Mattie Silver, and he could no longer conceive of its being
+ otherwise. But now, as he stood outside the church, and saw Mattie
+ spinning down the floor with Denis Eady, a throng of disregarded hints and
+ menaces wove their cloud about his brain....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a id="link2H_4_0003">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br><br><br><br>
+ </div>
+ <div class='chapter'><h2>
+ II
+ </h2></div>
+ <p>
+ As the dancers poured out of the hall Frome, drawing back behind the
+ projecting storm-door, watched the segregation of the grotesquely muffled
+ groups, in which a moving lantern ray now and then lit up a face flushed
+ with food and dancing. The villagers, being afoot, were the first to climb
+ the slope to the main street, while the country neighbours packed
+ themselves more slowly into the sleighs under the shed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Ain’t you riding, Mattie?” a woman’s voice called back from the throng
+ about the shed, and Ethan’s heart gave a jump. From where he stood he
+ could not see the persons coming out of the hall till they had advanced a
+ few steps beyond the wooden sides of the storm-door; but through its
+ cracks he heard a clear voice answer: “Mercy no! Not on such a night.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She was there, then, close to him, only a thin board between. In another
+ moment she would step forth into the night, and his eyes, accustomed to
+ the obscurity, would discern her as clearly as though she stood in
+ daylight. A wave of shyness pulled him back into the dark angle of the
+ wall, and he stood there in silence instead of making his presence known
+ to her. It had been one of the wonders of their intercourse that from the
+ first, she, the quicker, finer, more expressive, instead of crushing him
+ by the contrast, had given him something of her own ease and freedom; but
+ now he felt as heavy and loutish as in his student days, when he had tried
+ to “jolly” the Worcester girls at a picnic.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He hung back, and she came out alone and paused within a few yards of him.
+ She was almost the last to leave the hall, and she stood looking
+ uncertainly about her as if wondering why he did not show himself. Then a
+ man’s figure approached, coming so close to her that under their formless
+ wrappings they seemed merged in one dim outline.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Gentleman friend gone back on you? Say, Matt, that’s tough! No, I
+ wouldn’t be mean enough to tell the other girls. I ain’t as low-down as
+ that.” (How Frome hated his cheap banter!) “But look at here, ain’t it
+ lucky I got the old man’s cutter down there waiting for us?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Frome heard the girl’s voice, gaily incredulous: “What on earth’s your
+ father’s cutter doin’ down there?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why, waiting for me to take a ride. I got the roan colt too. I kinder
+ knew I’d want to take a ride to-night,” Eady, in his triumph, tried to put
+ a sentimental note into his bragging voice.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The girl seemed to waver, and Frome saw her twirl the end of her scarf
+ irresolutely about her fingers. Not for the world would he have made a
+ sign to her, though it seemed to him that his life hung on her next
+ gesture.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Hold on a minute while I unhitch the colt,” Denis called to her,
+ springing toward the shed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She stood perfectly still, looking after him, in an attitude of tranquil
+ expectancy torturing to the hidden watcher. Frome noticed that she no
+ longer turned her head from side to side, as though peering through the
+ night for another figure. She let Denis Eady lead out the horse, climb
+ into the cutter and fling back the bearskin to make room for her at his
+ side; then, with a swift motion of flight, she turned about and darted up
+ the slope toward the front of the church.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Good-bye! Hope you’ll have a lovely ride!” she called back to him over
+ her shoulder.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Denis laughed, and gave the horse a cut that brought him quickly abreast
+ of her retreating figure.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Come along! Get in quick! It’s as slippery as thunder on this turn,” he
+ cried, leaning over to reach out a hand to her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She laughed back at him: “Good-night! I’m not getting in.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ By this time they had passed beyond Frome’s earshot and he could only
+ follow the shadowy pantomime of their silhouettes as they continued to
+ move along the crest of the slope above him. He saw Eady, after a moment,
+ jump from the cutter and go toward the girl with the reins over one arm.
+ The other he tried to slip through hers; but she eluded him nimbly, and
+ Frome’s heart, which had swung out over a black void, trembled back to
+ safety. A moment later he heard the jingle of departing sleigh bells and
+ discerned a figure advancing alone toward the empty expanse of snow before
+ the church.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ In the black shade of the Varnum spruces he caught up with her and she
+ turned with a quick “Oh!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Think I’d forgotten you, Matt?” he asked with sheepish glee.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She answered seriously: “I thought maybe you couldn’t come back for me.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Couldn’t? What on earth could stop me?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I knew Zeena wasn’t feeling any too good to-day.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, she’s in bed long ago.” He paused, a question struggling in him.
+ “Then you meant to walk home all alone?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, I ain’t afraid!” she laughed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They stood together in the gloom of the spruces, an empty world glimmering
+ about them wide and grey under the stars. He brought his question out.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “If you thought I hadn’t come, why didn’t you ride back with Denis Eady?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why, where <i>were</i> you? How did you know? I never saw you!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her wonder and his laughter ran together like spring rills in a thaw.
+ Ethan had the sense of having done something arch and ingenious. To
+ prolong the effect he groped for a dazzling phrase, and brought out, in a
+ growl of rapture: “Come along.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He slipped an arm through hers, as Eady had done, and fancied it was
+ faintly pressed against her side, but neither of them moved. It was so
+ dark under the spruces that he could barely see the shape of her head
+ beside his shoulder. He longed to stoop his cheek and rub it against her
+ scarf. He would have liked to stand there with her all night in the
+ blackness. She moved forward a step or two and then paused again above the
+ dip of the Corbury road. Its icy slope, scored by innumerable runners,
+ looked like a mirror scratched by travellers at an inn.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “There was a whole lot of them coasting before the moon set,” she said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Would you like to come in and coast with them some night?” he asked.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, <i>would</i> you, Ethan? It would be lovely!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “We’ll come to-morrow if there’s a moon.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She lingered, pressing closer to his side. “Ned Hale and Ruth Varnum came
+ just as <i>near</i> running into the big elm at the bottom. We were all sure they
+ were killed.” Her shiver ran down his arm. “Wouldn’t it have been too
+ awful? They’re so happy!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Ned ain’t much at steering. I guess I can take you down all right!”
+ he said disdainfully.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He was aware that he was “talking big,” like Denis Eady; but his reaction
+ of joy had unsteadied him, and the inflection with which she had said of
+ the engaged couple “They’re so happy!” made the words sound as if she had
+ been thinking of herself and him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “The elm <i>is</i> dangerous, though. It ought to be cut down,” she insisted.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Would you be afraid of it, with me?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I told you I ain’t the kind to be afraid,” she tossed back, almost
+ indifferently; and suddenly she began to walk on with a rapid step.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ These alterations of mood were the despair and joy of Ethan Frome. The
+ motions of her mind were as incalculable as the flit of a bird in the
+ branches. The fact that he had no right to show his feelings, and thus
+ provoke the expression of hers, made him attach a fantastic importance to
+ every change in her look and tone. Now he thought she understood him, and
+ feared; now he was sure she did not, and despaired. To-night the pressure
+ of accumulated misgivings sent the scale drooping toward despair, and her
+ indifference was the more chilling after the flush of joy into which she
+ had plunged him by dismissing Denis Eady. He mounted School House Hill at
+ her side and walked on in silence till they reached the lane leading to
+ the saw-mill; then the need of some definite assurance grew too strong for
+ him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You’d have found me right off if you hadn’t gone back to have that last
+ reel with Denis,” he brought out awkwardly. He could not pronounce the
+ name without a stiffening of the muscles of his throat.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why, Ethan, how could I tell you were there?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I suppose what folks say is true,” he jerked out at her, instead of
+ answering.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She stopped short, and he felt, in the darkness, that her face was lifted
+ quickly to his. “Why, what do folks say?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “It’s natural enough you should be leaving us,” he floundered on, following
+ his thought.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Is that what they say?” she mocked back at him; then, with a sudden drop
+ of her sweet treble: “You mean that Zeena—ain’t suited with me any
+ more?” she faltered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Their arms had slipped apart and they stood motionless, each seeking to
+ distinguish the other’s face.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I know I ain’t anything like as smart as I ought to be,” she went on,
+ while he vainly struggled for expression. “There’s lots of things a hired
+ girl could do that come awkward to me still—and I haven’t got much
+ strength in my arms. But if she’d only tell me I’d try. You know she
+ hardly ever says anything, and sometimes I can see she ain’t suited, and
+ yet I don’t know why.” She turned on him with a sudden flash of
+ indignation. “You’d ought to tell me, Ethan Frome—you’d ought to!
+ Unless <i>you</i> want me to go too—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Unless he wanted her to go too! The cry was balm to his raw wound. The
+ iron heavens seemed to melt and rain down sweetness. Again he struggled
+ for the all-expressive word, and again, his arm in hers, found only a deep
+ “Come along.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They walked on in silence through the blackness of the hemlock-shaded
+ lane, where Ethan’s sawmill gloomed through the night, and out again into
+ the comparative clearness of the fields. On the farther side of the
+ hemlock belt the open country rolled away before them grey and lonely
+ under the stars. Sometimes their way led them under the shade of an
+ overhanging bank or through the thin obscurity of a clump of leafless
+ trees. Here and there a farmhouse stood far back among the fields, mute
+ and cold as a grave-stone. The night was so still that they heard the
+ frozen snow crackle under their feet. The crash of a loaded branch falling
+ far off in the woods reverberated like a musket-shot, and once a fox
+ barked, and Mattie shrank closer to Ethan, and quickened her steps.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ At length they sighted the group of larches at Ethan’s gate, and as they
+ drew near it the sense that the walk was over brought back his words.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Then you don’t want to leave us, Matt?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He had to stoop his head to catch her stifled whisper: “Where’d I go, if I
+ did?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The answer sent a pang through him but the tone suffused him with joy. He
+ forgot what else he had meant to say and pressed her against him so
+ closely that he seemed to feel her warmth in his veins.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You ain’t crying are you, Matt?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No, of course I’m not,” she quavered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They turned in at the gate and passed under the shaded knoll where,
+ enclosed in a low fence, the Frome grave-stones slanted at crazy angles
+ through the snow. Ethan looked at them curiously. For years that quiet
+ company had mocked his restlessness, his desire for change and freedom.
+ “We never got away—how should you?” seemed to be written on every
+ headstone; and whenever he went in or out of his gate he thought with a
+ shiver: “I shall just go on living here till I join them.” But now all
+ desire for change had vanished, and the sight of the little enclosure gave
+ him a warm sense of continuance and stability.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I guess we’ll never let you go, Matt,” he whispered, as though even the
+ dead, lovers once, must conspire with him to keep her; and brushing by the
+ graves, he thought: “We’ll always go on living here together, and some day
+ she’ll lie there beside me.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He let the vision possess him as they climbed the hill to the house. He
+ was never so happy with her as when he abandoned himself to these dreams.
+ Half-way up the slope Mattie stumbled against some unseen obstruction and
+ clutched his sleeve to steady herself. The wave of warmth that went
+ through him was like the prolongation of his vision. For the first time he
+ stole his arm about her, and she did not resist. They walked on as if they
+ were floating on a summer stream.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena always went to bed as soon as she had had her supper, and the
+ shutterless windows of the house were dark. A dead cucumber-vine dangled
+ from the porch like the crape streamer tied to the door for a death, and
+ the thought flashed through Ethan’s brain: “If it was there for Zeena—”
+ Then he had a distinct sight of his wife lying in their bedroom asleep,
+ her mouth slightly open, her false teeth in a tumbler by the bed....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They walked around to the back of the house, between the rigid gooseberry
+ bushes. It was Zeena’s habit, when they came back late from the village,
+ to leave the key of the kitchen door under the mat. Ethan stood before the
+ door, his head heavy with dreams, his arm still about Mattie. “Matt—”
+ he began, not knowing what he meant to say.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She slipped out of his hold without speaking, and he stooped down and felt
+ for the key.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “It’s not there!” he said, straightening himself with a start.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They strained their eyes at each other through the icy darkness. Such a
+ thing had never happened before.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Maybe she’s forgotten it,” Mattie said in a tremulous whisper; but both
+ of them knew that it was not like Zeena to forget.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “It might have fallen off into the snow,” Mattie continued, after a pause
+ during which they had stood intently listening.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “It must have been pushed off, then,” he rejoined in the same tone.
+ Another wild thought tore through him. What if tramps had been there—what
+ if....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Again he listened, fancying he heard a distant sound in the house; then he
+ felt in his pocket for a match, and kneeling down, passed its light slowly
+ over the rough edges of snow about the doorstep.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He was still kneeling when his eyes, on a level with the lower panel of
+ the door, caught a faint ray beneath it. Who could be stirring in that
+ silent house? He heard a step on the stairs, and again for an instant the
+ thought of tramps tore through him. Then the door opened and he saw his
+ wife.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Against the dark background of the kitchen she stood up tall and angular,
+ one hand drawing a quilted counterpane to her flat breast, while the other
+ held a lamp. The light, on a level with her chin, drew out of the darkness
+ her puckered throat and the projecting wrist of the hand that clutched the
+ quilt, and deepened fantastically the hollows and prominences of her
+ high-boned face under its ring of crimping-pins. To Ethan, still in the
+ rosy haze of his hour with Mattie, the sight came with the intense
+ precision of the last dream before waking. He felt as if he had never
+ before known what his wife looked like.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She drew aside without speaking, and Mattie and Ethan passed into the
+ kitchen, which had the deadly chill of a vault after the dry cold of the
+ night.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Guess you forgot about us, Zeena,” Ethan joked, stamping the snow from
+ his boots.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No. I just felt so mean I couldn’t sleep.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie came forward, unwinding her wraps, the colour of the cherry scarf
+ in her fresh lips and cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Zeena! Isn’t there anything I
+ can do?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No; there’s nothing.” Zeena turned away from her. “You might ’a’ shook
+ off that snow outside,” she said to her husband.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She walked out of the kitchen ahead of them and pausing in the hall raised
+ the lamp at arm’s-length, as if to light them up the stairs.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan paused also, affecting to fumble for the peg on which he hung his
+ coat and cap. The doors of the two bedrooms faced each other across the
+ narrow upper landing, and to-night it was peculiarly repugnant to him that
+ Mattie should see him follow Zeena.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I guess I won’t come up yet awhile,” he said, turning as if to go back to
+ the kitchen.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena stopped short and looked at him. “For the land’s sake—what you
+ going to do down here?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’ve got the mill accounts to go over.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She continued to stare at him, the flame of the unshaded lamp bringing out
+ with microscopic cruelty the fretful lines of her face.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “At this time o’ night? You’ll ketch your death. The fire’s out long ago.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Without answering he moved away toward the kitchen. As he did so his
+ glance crossed Mattie’s and he fancied that a fugitive warning gleamed
+ through her lashes. The next moment they sank to her flushed cheeks and
+ she began to mount the stairs ahead of Zeena.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “That’s so. It <i>is</i> powerful cold down here,” Ethan assented; and with
+ lowered head he went up in his wife’s wake, and followed her across the
+ threshold of their room.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a id="link2H_4_0004">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br><br><br><br>
+ </div>
+ <div class='chapter'><h2>
+ III
+ </h2></div>
+ <p>
+ There was some hauling to be done at the lower end of the wood-lot, and
+ Ethan was out early the next day.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The winter morning was as clear as crystal. The sunrise burned red in a
+ pure sky, the shadows on the rim of the wood-lot were darkly blue, and
+ beyond the white and scintillating fields patches of far-off forest hung
+ like smoke.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was in the early morning stillness, when his muscles were swinging to
+ their familiar task and his lungs expanding with long draughts of mountain
+ air, that Ethan did his clearest thinking. He and Zeena had not exchanged
+ a word after the door of their room had closed on them. She had measured
+ out some drops from a medicine-bottle on a chair by the bed and, after
+ swallowing them, and wrapping her head in a piece of yellow flannel, had
+ lain down with her face turned away. Ethan undressed hurriedly and blew
+ out the light so that he should not see her when he took his place at her
+ side. As he lay there he could hear Mattie moving about in her room, and
+ her candle, sending its small ray across the landing, drew a scarcely
+ perceptible line of light under his door. He kept his eyes fixed on the
+ light till it vanished. Then the room grew perfectly black, and not a
+ sound was audible but Zeena’s asthmatic breathing. Ethan felt confusedly
+ that there were many things he ought to think about, but through his
+ tingling veins and tired brain only one sensation throbbed: the warmth of
+ Mattie’s shoulder against his. Why had he not kissed her when he held her
+ there? A few hours earlier he would not have asked himself the question.
+ Even a few minutes earlier, when they had stood alone outside the house,
+ he would not have dared to think of kissing her. But since he had seen her
+ lips in the lamplight he felt that they were his.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Now, in the bright morning air, her face was still before him. It was part
+ of the sun’s red and of the pure glitter on the snow. How the girl had
+ changed since she had come to Starkfield! He remembered what a colourless
+ slip of a thing she had looked the day he had met her at the station. And
+ all the first winter, how she had shivered with cold when the northerly
+ gales shook the thin clapboards and the snow beat like hail against the
+ loose-hung windows!
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He had been afraid that she would hate the hard life, the cold and
+ loneliness; but not a sign of discontent escaped her. Zeena took the view
+ that Mattie was bound to make the best of Starkfield since she hadn’t any
+ other place to go to; but this did not strike Ethan as conclusive. Zeena,
+ at any rate, did not apply the principle in her own case.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He felt all the more sorry for the girl because misfortune had, in a
+ sense, indentured her to them. Mattie Silver was the daughter of a cousin
+ of Zenobia Frome’s, who had inflamed his clan with mingled sentiments of
+ envy and admiration by descending from the hills to Connecticut, where he
+ had married a Stamford girl and succeeded to her father’s thriving “drug”
+ business. Unhappily Orin Silver, a man of far-reaching aims, had died too
+ soon to prove that the end justifies the means. His accounts revealed
+ merely what the means had been; and these were such that it was fortunate
+ for his wife and daughter that his books were examined only after his
+ impressive funeral. His wife died of the disclosure, and Mattie, at
+ twenty, was left alone to make her way on the fifty dollars obtained from
+ the sale of her piano. For this purpose her equipment, though varied, was
+ inadequate. She could trim a hat, make molasses candy, recite “Curfew
+ shall not ring to-night,” and play “The Lost Chord” and a pot-pourri from
+ “Carmen.” When she tried to extend the field of her activities in the
+ direction of stenography and book-keeping her health broke down, and six
+ months on her feet behind the counter of a department store did not tend
+ to restore it. Her nearest relations had been induced to place their
+ savings in her father’s hands, and though, after his death, they
+ ungrudgingly acquitted themselves of the Christian duty of returning good
+ for evil by giving his daughter all the advice at their disposal, they
+ could hardly be expected to supplement it by material aid. But when
+ Zenobia’s doctor recommended her looking about for some one to help her
+ with the house-work the clan instantly saw the chance of exacting a
+ compensation from Mattie. Zenobia, though doubtful of the girl’s
+ efficiency, was tempted by the freedom to find fault without much risk of
+ losing her; and so Mattie came to Starkfield.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zenobia’s fault-finding was of the silent kind, but not the less
+ penetrating for that. During the first months Ethan alternately burned
+ with the desire to see Mattie defy her and trembled with fear of the
+ result. Then the situation grew less strained. The pure air, and the long
+ summer hours in the open, gave back life and elasticity to Mattie, and
+ Zeena, with more leisure to devote to her complex ailments, grew less
+ watchful of the girl’s omissions; so that Ethan, struggling on under the
+ burden of his barren farm and failing saw-mill, could at least imagine
+ that peace reigned in his house.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There was really, even now, no tangible evidence to the contrary; but
+ since the previous night a vague dread had hung on his sky-line. It was
+ formed of Zeena’s obstinate silence, of Mattie’s sudden look of warning,
+ of the memory of just such fleeting imperceptible signs as those which
+ told him, on certain stainless mornings, that before night there would be
+ rain.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ His dread was so strong that, man-like, he sought to postpone certainty.
+ The hauling was not over till mid-day, and as the lumber was to be
+ delivered to Andrew Hale, the Starkfield builder, it was really easier for
+ Ethan to send Jotham Powell, the hired man, back to the farm on foot, and
+ drive the load down to the village himself. He had scrambled up on the
+ logs, and was sitting astride of them, close over his shaggy grays, when,
+ coming between him and their streaming necks, he had a vision of the
+ warning look that Mattie had given him the night before.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “If there’s going to be any trouble I want to be there,” was his vague
+ reflection, as he threw to Jotham the unexpected order to unhitch the team
+ and lead them back to the barn.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was a slow trudge home through the heavy fields, and when the two men
+ entered the kitchen Mattie was lifting the coffee from the stove and Zeena
+ was already at the table. Her husband stopped short at sight of her.
+ Instead of her usual calico wrapper and knitted shawl she wore her best
+ dress of brown merino, and above her thin strands of hair, which still
+ preserved the tight undulations of the crimping-pins, rose a hard
+ perpendicular bonnet, as to which Ethan’s clearest notion was that he had
+ to pay five dollars for it at the Bettsbridge Emporium. On the floor
+ beside her stood his old valise and a bandbox wrapped in newspapers.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why, where are you going, Zeena?” he exclaimed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’ve got my shooting pains so bad that I’m going over to Bettsbridge to
+ spend the night with Aunt Martha Pierce and see that new doctor,” she
+ answered in a matter-of-fact tone, as if she had said she was going into
+ the store-room to take a look at the preserves, or up to the attic to go
+ over the blankets.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ In spite of her sedentary habits such abrupt decisions were not without
+ precedent in Zeena’s history. Twice or thrice before she had suddenly
+ packed Ethan’s valise and started off to Bettsbridge, or even Springfield,
+ to seek the advice of some new doctor, and her husband had grown to dread
+ these expeditions because of their cost. Zeena always came back laden with
+ expensive remedies, and her last visit to Springfield had been
+ commemorated by her paying twenty dollars for an electric battery of which
+ she had never been able to learn the use. But for the moment his sense of
+ relief was so great as to preclude all other feelings. He had now no doubt
+ that Zeena had spoken the truth in saying, the night before, that she had
+ sat up because she felt “too mean” to sleep: her abrupt resolve to seek
+ medical advice showed that, as usual, she was wholly absorbed in her
+ health.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As if expecting a protest, she continued plaintively; “If you’re too busy
+ with the hauling I presume you can let Jotham Powell drive me over with
+ the sorrel in time to ketch the train at the Flats.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her husband hardly heard what she was saying. During the winter months
+ there was no stage between Starkfield and Bettsbridge, and the trains
+ which stopped at Corbury Flats were slow and infrequent. A rapid
+ calculation showed Ethan that Zeena could not be back at the farm before
+ the following evening....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “If I’d supposed you’d ’a’ made any objection to Jotham Powell’s driving
+ me over—” she began again, as though his silence had implied
+ refusal. On the brink of departure she was always seized with a flux of
+ words. “All I know is,” she continued, “I can’t go on the way I am much
+ longer. The pains are clear away down to my ankles now, or I’d ’a’ walked
+ in to Starkfield on my own feet, sooner’n put you out, and asked Michael
+ Eady to let me ride over on his wagon to the Flats, when he sends to meet
+ the train that brings his groceries. I’d ’a’ had two hours to wait in the
+ station, but I’d sooner ’a’ done it, even with this cold, than to have you
+ say—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Of course Jotham’ll drive you over,” Ethan roused himself to answer. He
+ became suddenly conscious that he was looking at Mattie while Zeena talked
+ to him, and with an effort he turned his eyes to his wife. She sat
+ opposite the window, and the pale light reflected from the banks of snow
+ made her face look more than usually drawn and bloodless, sharpened the
+ three parallel creases between ear and cheek, and drew querulous lines
+ from her thin nose to the corners of her mouth. Though she was but seven
+ years her husband’s senior, and he was only twenty-eight, she was already
+ an old woman.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan tried to say something befitting the occasion, but there was only
+ one thought in his mind: the fact that, for the first time since Mattie
+ had come to live with them, Zeena was to be away for a night. He wondered
+ if the girl were thinking of it too....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He knew that Zeena must be wondering why he did not offer to drive her to
+ the Flats and let Jotham Powell take the lumber to Starkfield, and at
+ first he could not think of a pretext for not doing so; then he said: “I’d
+ take you over myself, only I’ve got to collect the cash for the lumber.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As soon as the words were spoken he regretted them, not only because they
+ were untrue—there being no prospect of his receiving cash payment
+ from Hale—but also because he knew from experience the imprudence of
+ letting Zeena think he was in funds on the eve of one of her therapeutic
+ excursions. At the moment, however, his one desire was to avoid the long
+ drive with her behind the ancient sorrel who never went out of a walk.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena made no reply: she did not seem to hear what he had said. She had
+ already pushed her plate aside, and was measuring out a draught from a
+ large bottle at her elbow.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “It ain’t done me a speck of good, but I guess I might as well use it up,”
+ she remarked; adding, as she pushed the empty bottle toward Mattie: “If
+ you can get the taste out it’ll do for pickles.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a id="link2H_4_0005">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br><br><br><br>
+ </div>
+ <div class='chapter'><h2>
+ IV
+ </h2></div>
+ <p>
+ As soon as his wife had driven off Ethan took his coat and cap from the
+ peg. Mattie was washing up the dishes, humming one of the dance tunes of
+ the night before. He said “So long, Matt,” and she answered gaily “So
+ long, Ethan”; and that was all.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was warm and bright in the kitchen. The sun slanted through the south
+ window on the girl’s moving figure, on the cat dozing in a chair, and on
+ the geraniums brought in from the door-way, where Ethan had planted them
+ in the summer to “make a garden” for Mattie. He would have liked to linger
+ on, watching her tidy up and then settle down to her sewing; but he wanted
+ still more to get the hauling done and be back at the farm before night.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ All the way down to the village he continued to think of his return to
+ Mattie. The kitchen was a poor place, not “spruce” and shining as his
+ mother had kept it in his boyhood; but it was surprising what a homelike
+ look the mere fact of Zeena’s absence gave it. And he pictured what it
+ would be like that evening, when he and Mattie were there after supper.
+ For the first time they would be alone together indoors, and they would
+ sit there, one on each side of the stove, like a married couple, he in his
+ stocking feet and smoking his pipe, she laughing and talking in that funny
+ way she had, which was always as new to him as if he had never heard her
+ before.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The sweetness of the picture, and the relief of knowing that his fears of
+ “trouble” with Zeena were unfounded, sent up his spirits with a rush, and
+ he, who was usually so silent, whistled and sang aloud as he drove through
+ the snowy fields. There was in him a slumbering spark of sociability which
+ the long Starkfield winters had not yet extinguished. By nature grave and
+ inarticulate, he admired recklessness and gaiety in others and was warmed
+ to the marrow by friendly human intercourse. At Worcester, though he had
+ the name of keeping to himself and not being much of a hand at a good
+ time, he had secretly gloried in being clapped on the back and hailed as
+ “Old Ethe” or “Old Stiff”; and the cessation of such familiarities had
+ increased the chill of his return to Starkfield.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There the silence had deepened about him year by year. Left alone, after
+ his father’s accident, to carry the burden of farm and mill, he had had no
+ time for convivial loiterings in the village; and when his mother fell ill
+ the loneliness of the house grew more oppressive than that of the fields.
+ His mother had been a talker in her day, but after her “trouble” the sound
+ of her voice was seldom heard, though she had not lost the power of
+ speech. Sometimes, in the long winter evenings, when in desperation her
+ son asked her why she didn’t “say something,” she would lift a finger and
+ answer: “Because I’m listening”; and on stormy nights, when the loud wind
+ was about the house, she would complain, if he spoke to her: “They’re
+ talking so out there that I can’t hear you.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was only when she drew toward her last illness, and his cousin Zenobia
+ Pierce came over from the next valley to help him nurse her, that human
+ speech was heard again in the house. After the mortal silence of his long
+ imprisonment Zeena’s volubility was music in his ears. He felt that he
+ might have “gone like his mother” if the sound of a new voice had not come
+ to steady him. Zeena seemed to understand his case at a glance. She
+ laughed at him for not knowing the simplest sick-bed duties and told him
+ to “go right along out” and leave her to see to things. The mere fact of
+ obeying her orders, of feeling free to go about his business again and
+ talk with other men, restored his shaken balance and magnified his sense
+ of what he owed her. Her efficiency shamed and dazzled him. She seemed to
+ possess by instinct all the household wisdom that his long apprenticeship
+ had not instilled in him. When the end came it was she who had to tell him
+ to hitch up and go for the undertaker, and she thought it “funny” that he
+ had not settled beforehand who was to have his mother’s clothes and the
+ sewing-machine. After the funeral, when he saw her preparing to go away,
+ he was seized with an unreasoning dread of being left alone on the farm;
+ and before he knew what he was doing he had asked her to stay there with
+ him. He had often thought since that it would not have happened if his
+ mother had died in spring instead of winter....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When they married it was agreed that, as soon as he could straighten out
+ the difficulties resulting from Mrs. Frome’s long illness, they would sell
+ the farm and saw-mill and try their luck in a large town. Ethan’s love of
+ nature did not take the form of a taste for agriculture. He had always
+ wanted to be an engineer, and to live in towns, where there were lectures
+ and big libraries and “fellows doing things.” A slight engineering job in
+ Florida, put in his way during his period of study at Worcester, increased
+ his faith in his ability as well as his eagerness to see the world; and he
+ felt sure that, with a “smart” wife like Zeena, it would not be long
+ before he had made himself a place in it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena’s native village was slightly larger and nearer to the railway than
+ Starkfield, and she had let her husband see from the first that life on an
+ isolated farm was not what she had expected when she married. But
+ purchasers were slow in coming, and while he waited for them Ethan learned
+ the impossibility of transplanting her. She chose to look down on
+ Starkfield, but she could not have lived in a place which looked down on
+ her. Even Bettsbridge or Shadd’s Falls would not have been sufficiently
+ aware of her, and in the greater cities which attracted Ethan she would
+ have suffered a complete loss of identity. And within a year of their
+ marriage she developed the “sickliness” which had since made her notable
+ even in a community rich in pathological instances. When she came to take
+ care of his mother she had seemed to Ethan like the very genius of health,
+ but he soon saw that her skill as a nurse had been acquired by the
+ absorbed observation of her own symptoms.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Then she too fell silent. Perhaps it was the inevitable effect of life on
+ the farm, or perhaps, as she sometimes said, it was because Ethan “never
+ listened.” The charge was not wholly unfounded. When she spoke it was only
+ to complain, and to complain of things not in his power to remedy; and to
+ check a tendency to impatient retort he had first formed the habit of not
+ answering her, and finally of thinking of other things while she talked.
+ Of late, however, since he had reasons for observing her more closely, her
+ silence had begun to trouble him. He recalled his mother’s growing
+ taciturnity, and wondered if Zeena were also turning “queer.” Women did,
+ he knew. Zeena, who had at her fingers’ ends the pathological chart of the
+ whole region, had cited many cases of the kind while she was nursing his
+ mother; and he himself knew of certain lonely farm-houses in the
+ neighbourhood where stricken creatures pined, and of others where sudden
+ tragedy had come of their presence. At times, looking at Zeena’s shut
+ face, he felt the chill of such forebodings. At other times her silence
+ seemed deliberately assumed to conceal far-reaching intentions, mysterious
+ conclusions drawn from suspicions and resentments impossible to guess.
+ That supposition was even more disturbing than the other; and it was the
+ one which had come to him the night before, when he had seen her standing
+ in the kitchen door.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Now her departure for Bettsbridge had once more eased his mind, and all
+ his thoughts were on the prospect of his evening with Mattie. Only one
+ thing weighed on him, and that was his having told Zeena that he was to
+ receive cash for the lumber. He foresaw so clearly the consequences of
+ this imprudence that with considerable reluctance he decided to ask Andrew
+ Hale for a small advance on his load.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When Ethan drove into Hale’s yard the builder was just getting out of his
+ sleigh.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Hello, Ethe!” he said. “This comes handy.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Andrew Hale was a ruddy man with a big gray moustache and a stubbly
+ double-chin unconstrained by a collar; but his scrupulously clean shirt
+ was always fastened by a small diamond stud. This display of opulence was
+ misleading, for though he did a fairly good business it was known that his
+ easygoing habits and the demands of his large family frequently kept him
+ what Starkfield called “behind.” He was an old friend of Ethan’s family,
+ and his house one of the few to which Zeena occasionally went, drawn there
+ by the fact that Mrs. Hale, in her youth, had done more “doctoring” than
+ any other woman in Starkfield, and was still a recognised authority on
+ symptoms and treatment.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Hale went up to the grays and patted their sweating flanks.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well, sir,” he said, “you keep them two as if they was pets.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan set about unloading the logs and when he had finished his job he
+ pushed open the glazed door of the shed which the builder used as his
+ office. Hale sat with his feet up on the stove, his back propped against a
+ battered desk strewn with papers: the place, like the man, was warm,
+ genial and untidy.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Sit right down and thaw out,” he greeted Ethan.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The latter did not know how to begin, but at length he managed to bring
+ out his request for an advance of fifty dollars. The blood rushed to his
+ thin skin under the sting of Hale’s astonishment. It was the builder’s
+ custom to pay at the end of three months, and there was no precedent
+ between the two men for a cash settlement.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan felt that if he had pleaded an urgent need Hale might have made
+ shift to pay him; but pride, and an instinctive prudence, kept him from
+ resorting to this argument. After his father’s death it had taken time to
+ get his head above water, and he did not want Andrew Hale, or any one else
+ in Starkfield, to think he was going under again. Besides, he hated lying;
+ if he wanted the money he wanted it, and it was nobody’s business to ask
+ why. He therefore made his demand with the awkwardness of a proud man who
+ will not admit to himself that he is stooping; and he was not much
+ surprised at Hale’s refusal.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The builder refused genially, as he did everything else: he treated the
+ matter as something in the nature of a practical joke, and wanted to know
+ if Ethan meditated buying a grand piano or adding a “cupolo” to his house;
+ offering, in the latter case, to give his services free of cost.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan’s arts were soon exhausted, and after an embarrassed pause he wished
+ Hale good day and opened the door of the office. As he passed out the
+ builder suddenly called after him: “See here—you ain’t in a tight
+ place, are you?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Not a bit,” Ethan’s pride retorted before his reason had time to
+ intervene.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well, that’s good! Because I <i>am</i>, a shade. Fact is, I was going to ask you
+ to give me a little extra time on that payment. Business is pretty slack,
+ to begin with, and then I’m fixing up a little house for Ned and Ruth when
+ they’re married. I’m glad to do it for ’em, but it costs.” His look
+ appealed to Ethan for sympathy. “The young people like things nice. You
+ know how it is yourself: it’s not so long ago since you fixed up your own
+ place for Zeena.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan left the grays in Hale’s stable and went about some other business
+ in the village. As he walked away the builder’s last phrase lingered in
+ his ears, and he reflected grimly that his seven years with Zeena seemed
+ to Starkfield “not so long.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The afternoon was drawing to an end, and here and there a lighted pane
+ spangled the cold gray dusk and made the snow look whiter. The bitter
+ weather had driven every one indoors and Ethan had the long rural street
+ to himself. Suddenly he heard the brisk play of sleigh-bells and a cutter
+ passed him, drawn by a free-going horse. Ethan recognised Michael Eady’s
+ roan colt, and young Denis Eady, in a handsome new fur cap, leaned forward
+ and waved a greeting. “Hello, Ethe!” he shouted and spun on.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The cutter was going in the direction of the Frome farm, and Ethan’s heart
+ contracted as he listened to the dwindling bells. What more likely than
+ that Denis Eady had heard of Zeena’s departure for Bettsbridge, and was
+ profiting by the opportunity to spend an hour with Mattie? Ethan was
+ ashamed of the storm of jealousy in his breast. It seemed unworthy of the
+ girl that his thoughts of her should be so violent.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He walked on to the church corner and entered the shade of the Varnum
+ spruces, where he had stood with her the night before. As he passed into
+ their gloom he saw an indistinct outline just ahead of him. At his
+ approach it melted for an instant into two separate shapes and then
+ conjoined again, and he heard a kiss, and a half-laughing “Oh!” provoked
+ by the discovery of his presence. Again the outline hastily disunited and
+ the Varnum gate slammed on one half while the other hurried on ahead of
+ him. Ethan smiled at the discomfiture he had caused. What did it matter to
+ Ned Hale and Ruth Varnum if they were caught kissing each other? Everybody
+ in Starkfield knew they were engaged. It pleased Ethan to have surprised a
+ pair of lovers on the spot where he and Mattie had stood with such a
+ thirst for each other in their hearts; but he felt a pang at the thought
+ that these two need not hide their happiness.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He fetched the grays from Hale’s stable and started on his long climb back
+ to the farm. The cold was less sharp than earlier in the day and a thick
+ fleecy sky threatened snow for the morrow. Here and there a star pricked
+ through, showing behind it a deep well of blue. In an hour or two the moon
+ would push over the ridge behind the farm, burn a gold-edged rent in the
+ clouds, and then be swallowed by them. A mournful peace hung on the
+ fields, as though they felt the relaxing grasp of the cold and stretched
+ themselves in their long winter sleep.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan’s ears were alert for the jingle of sleigh-bells, but not a sound
+ broke the silence of the lonely road. As he drew near the farm he saw,
+ through the thin screen of larches at the gate, a light twinkling in the
+ house above him. “She’s up in her room,” he said to himself, “fixing
+ herself up for supper”; and he remembered Zeena’s sarcastic stare when
+ Mattie, on the evening of her arrival, had come down to supper with
+ smoothed hair and a ribbon at her neck.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He passed by the graves on the knoll and turned his head to glance at one
+ of the older headstones, which had interested him deeply as a boy because
+ it bore his name.
+ </p>
+
+ <div class='center'>SACRED TO THE MEMORY OF</div>
+ <div class='center'>ETHAN FROME AND ENDURANCE HIS WIFE,</div>
+ <div class='center'>WHO DWELLED TOGETHER IN PEACE</div>
+ <div class='center'>FOR FIFTY YEARS.</div>
+
+ <p>
+ He used to think that fifty years sounded like a long time to live
+ together; but now it seemed to him that they might pass in a flash. Then,
+ with a sudden dart of irony, he wondered if, when their turn came, the
+ same epitaph would be written over him and Zeena.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He opened the barn-door and craned his head into the obscurity,
+ half-fearing to discover Denis Eady’s roan colt in the stall beside the
+ sorrel. But the old horse was there alone, mumbling his crib with
+ toothless jaws, and Ethan whistled cheerfully while he bedded down the
+ grays and shook an extra measure of oats into their mangers. His was not a
+ tuneful throat—but harsh melodies burst from it as he locked the
+ barn and sprang up the hill to the house. He reached the kitchen-porch and
+ turned the door-handle; but the door did not yield to his touch.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Startled at finding it locked he rattled the handle violently; then he
+ reflected that Mattie was alone and that it was natural she should
+ barricade herself at nightfall. He stood in the darkness expecting to hear
+ her step. It did not come, and after vainly straining his ears he called
+ out in a voice that shook with joy: “Hello, Matt!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Silence answered; but in a minute or two he caught a sound on the stairs
+ and saw a line of light about the door-frame, as he had seen it the night
+ before. So strange was the precision with which the incidents of the
+ previous evening were repeating themselves that he half expected, when he
+ heard the key turn, to see his wife before him on the threshold; but the
+ door opened, and Mattie faced him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She stood just as Zeena had stood, a lifted lamp in her hand, against the
+ black background of the kitchen. She held the light at the same level, and
+ it drew out with the same distinctness her slim young throat and the brown
+ wrist no bigger than a child’s. Then, striking upward, it threw a lustrous
+ fleck on her lips, edged her eyes with velvet shade, and laid a milky
+ whiteness above the black curve of her brows.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She wore her usual dress of darkish stuff, and there was no bow at her
+ neck; but through her hair she had run a streak of crimson ribbon. This
+ tribute to the unusual transformed and glorified her. She seemed to Ethan
+ taller, fuller, more womanly in shape and motion. She stood aside, smiling
+ silently, while he entered, and then moved away from him with something
+ soft and flowing in her gait. She set the lamp on the table, and he saw
+ that it was carefully laid for supper, with fresh dough-nuts, stewed
+ blueberries and his favourite pickles in a dish of gay red glass. A bright
+ fire glowed in the stove and the cat lay stretched before it, watching the
+ table with a drowsy eye.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan was suffocated with the sense of well-being. He went out into the
+ passage to hang up his coat and pull off his wet boots. When he came back
+ Mattie had set the teapot on the table and the cat was rubbing itself
+ persuasively against her ankles.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why, Puss! I nearly tripped over you,” she cried, the laughter sparkling
+ through her lashes.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Again Ethan felt a sudden twinge of jealousy. Could it be his coming that
+ gave her such a kindled face?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well, Matt, any visitors?” he threw off, stooping down carelessly to
+ examine the fastening of the stove.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She nodded and laughed “Yes, one,” and he felt a blackness settling on his
+ brows.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Who was that?” he questioned, raising himself up to slant a glance at her
+ beneath his scowl.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her eyes danced with malice. “Why, Jotham Powell. He came in after he got
+ back, and asked for a drop of coffee before he went down home.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The blackness lifted and light flooded Ethan’s brain. “That all? Well, I
+ hope you made out to let him have it.” And after a pause he felt it right
+ to add: “I suppose he got Zeena over to the Flats all right?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, yes; in plenty of time.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The name threw a chill between them, and they stood a moment looking
+ sideways at each other before Mattie said with a shy laugh. “I guess it’s
+ about time for supper.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They drew their seats up to the table, and the cat, unbidden, jumped
+ between them into Zeena’s empty chair. “Oh, Puss!” said Mattie, and they
+ laughed again.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan, a moment earlier, had felt himself on the brink of eloquence; but
+ the mention of Zeena had paralysed him. Mattie seemed to feel the
+ contagion of his embarrassment, and sat with downcast lids, sipping her
+ tea, while he feigned an insatiable appetite for dough-nuts and sweet
+ pickles. At last, after casting about for an effective opening, he took a
+ long gulp of tea, cleared his throat, and said: “Looks as if there’d be
+ more snow.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She feigned great interest. “Is that so? Do you suppose it’ll interfere
+ with Zeena’s getting back?” She flushed red as the question escaped her,
+ and hastily set down the cup she was lifting.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan reached over for another helping of pickles. “You never can tell,
+ this time of year, it drifts so bad on the Flats.” The name had benumbed
+ him again, and once more he felt as if Zeena were in the room between
+ them.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Puss, you’re too greedy!” Mattie cried.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The cat, unnoticed, had crept up on muffled paws from Zeena’s seat to the
+ table, and was stealthily elongating its body in the direction of the
+ milk-jug, which stood between Ethan and Mattie. The two leaned forward at
+ the same moment and their hands met on the handle of the jug. Mattie’s
+ hand was underneath, and Ethan kept his clasped on it a moment longer than
+ was necessary. The cat, profiting by this unusual demonstration, tried to
+ effect an unnoticed retreat, and in doing so backed into the pickle-dish,
+ which fell to the floor with a crash.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie, in an instant, had sprung from her chair and was down on her knees
+ by the fragments.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Ethan, Ethan—it’s all to pieces! What will Zeena say?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ But this time his courage was up. “Well, she’ll have to say it to the cat,
+ any way!” he rejoined with a laugh, kneeling down at Mattie’s side to
+ scrape up the swimming pickles.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She lifted stricken eyes to him. “Yes, but, you see, she never meant it
+ should be used, not even when there was company; and I had to get up on
+ the step-ladder to reach it down from the top shelf of the china-closet,
+ where she keeps it with all her best things, and of course she’ll want to
+ know why I did it—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The case was so serious that it called forth all of Ethan’s latent
+ resolution.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “She needn’t know anything about it if you keep quiet. I’ll get another
+ just like it to-morrow. Where did it come from? I’ll go to Shadd’s Falls
+ for it if I have to!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, you’ll never get another even there! It was a wedding present—don’t
+ you remember? It came all the way from Philadelphia, from Zeena’s aunt
+ that married the minister. That’s why she wouldn’t ever use it. Oh, Ethan,
+ Ethan, what in the world shall I do?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She began to cry, and he felt as if every one of her tears were pouring
+ over him like burning lead. “Don’t, Matt, don’t—oh, <i>don’t</i>!” he
+ implored her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She struggled to her feet, and he rose and followed her helplessly while
+ she spread out the pieces of glass on the kitchen dresser. It seemed to
+ him as if the shattered fragments of their evening lay there.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Here, give them to me,” he said in a voice of sudden authority.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She drew aside, instinctively obeying his tone. “Oh, Ethan, what are you
+ going to do?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Without replying he gathered the pieces of glass into his broad palm and
+ walked out of the kitchen to the passage. There he lit a candle-end,
+ opened the china-closet, and, reaching his long arm up to the highest
+ shelf, laid the pieces together with such accuracy of touch that a close
+ inspection convinced him of the impossibility of detecting from below that
+ the dish was broken. If he glued it together the next morning months might
+ elapse before his wife noticed what had happened, and meanwhile he might
+ after all be able to match the dish at Shadd’s Falls or Bettsbridge.
+ Having satisfied himself that there was no risk of immediate discovery he
+ went back to the kitchen with a lighter step, and found Mattie
+ disconsolately removing the last scraps of pickle from the floor.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “It’s all right, Matt. Come back and finish supper,” he commanded her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Completely reassured, she shone on him through tear-hung lashes, and his
+ soul swelled with pride as he saw how his tone subdued her. She did not
+ even ask what he had done. Except when he was steering a big log down the
+ mountain to his mill he had never known such a thrilling sense of mastery.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a id="link2H_4_0006">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br><br><br><br>
+ </div>
+ <div class='chapter'><h2>
+ V
+ </h2></div>
+ <p>
+ They finished supper, and while Mattie cleared the table Ethan went to
+ look at the cows and then took a last turn about the house. The earth lay
+ dark under a muffled sky and the air was so still that now and then he
+ heard a lump of snow come thumping down from a tree far off on the edge of
+ the wood-lot.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When he returned to the kitchen Mattie had pushed up his chair to the
+ stove and seated herself near the lamp with a bit of sewing. The scene was
+ just as he had dreamed of it that morning. He sat down, drew his pipe from
+ his pocket and stretched his feet to the glow. His hard day’s work in the
+ keen air made him feel at once lazy and light of mood, and he had a
+ confused sense of being in another world, where all was warmth and harmony
+ and time could bring no change. The only drawback to his complete
+ well-being was the fact that he could not see Mattie from where he sat;
+ but he was too indolent to move and after a moment he said: “Come over
+ here and sit by the stove.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena’s empty rocking-chair stood facing him. Mattie rose obediently, and
+ seated herself in it. As her young brown head detached itself against the
+ patch-work cushion that habitually framed his wife’s gaunt countenance,
+ Ethan had a momentary shock. It was almost as if the other face, the face
+ of the superseded woman, had obliterated that of the intruder. After a
+ moment Mattie seemed to be affected by the same sense of constraint. She
+ changed her position, leaning forward to bend her head above her work, so
+ that he saw only the foreshortened tip of her nose and the streak of red
+ in her hair; then she slipped to her feet, saying “I can’t see to sew,”
+ and went back to her chair by the lamp.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan made a pretext of getting up to replenish the stove, and when he
+ returned to his seat he pushed it sideways that he might get a view of her
+ profile and of the lamplight falling on her hands. The cat, who had been a
+ puzzled observer of these unusual movements, jumped up into Zeena’s chair,
+ rolled itself into a ball, and lay watching them with narrowed eyes.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Deep quiet sank on the room. The clock ticked above the dresser, a piece
+ of charred wood fell now and then in the stove, and the faint sharp scent
+ of the geraniums mingled with the odour of Ethan’s smoke, which began to
+ throw a blue haze about the lamp and to hang its greyish cobwebs in the
+ shadowy corners of the room.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ All constraint had vanished between the two, and they began to talk easily
+ and simply. They spoke of every-day things, of the prospect of snow, of
+ the next church sociable, of the loves and quarrels of Starkfield. The
+ commonplace nature of what they said produced in Ethan an illusion of
+ long-established intimacy which no outburst of emotion could have given,
+ and he set his imagination adrift on the fiction that they had always
+ spent their evenings thus and would always go on doing so....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “This is the night we were to have gone coasting, Matt,” he said at
+ length, with the rich sense, as he spoke, that they could go on any other
+ night they chose, since they had all time before them.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She smiled back at him. “I guess you forgot!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No, I didn’t forget; but it’s as dark as Egypt outdoors. We might go
+ to-morrow if there’s a moon.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She laughed with pleasure, her head tilted back, the lamplight sparkling
+ on her lips and teeth. “That would be lovely, Ethan!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He kept his eyes fixed on her, marvelling at the way her face changed with
+ each turn of their talk, like a wheat-field under a summer breeze. It was
+ intoxicating to find such magic in his clumsy words, and he longed to try
+ new ways of using it.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Would you be scared to go down the Corbury road with me on a night like
+ this?” he asked.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her cheeks burned redder. “I ain’t any more scared than you are!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well, <i>I’d</i> be scared, then; I wouldn’t do it. That’s an ugly corner down
+ by the big elm. If a fellow didn’t keep his eyes open he’d go plumb into
+ it.” He luxuriated in the sense of protection and authority which his
+ words conveyed. To prolong and intensify the feeling he added: “I guess
+ we’re well enough here.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She let her lids sink slowly, in the way he loved. “Yes, we’re well enough
+ here,” she sighed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her tone was so sweet that he took the pipe from his mouth and drew his
+ chair up to the table. Leaning forward, he touched the farther end of the
+ strip of brown stuff that she was hemming. “Say, Matt,” he began with a
+ smile, “what do you think I saw under the Varnum spruces, coming along
+ home just now? I saw a friend of yours getting kissed.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The words had been on his tongue all the evening, but now that he had
+ spoken them they struck him as inexpressibly vulgar and out of place.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie blushed to the roots of her hair and pulled her needle rapidly
+ twice or thrice through her work, insensibly drawing the end of it away
+ from him. “I suppose it was Ruth and Ned,” she said in a low voice, as
+ though he had suddenly touched on something grave.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan had imagined that his allusion might open the way to the accepted
+ pleasantries, and these perhaps in turn to a harmless caress, if only a
+ mere touch on her hand. But now he felt as if her blush had set a flaming
+ guard about her. He supposed it was his natural awkwardness that made him
+ feel so. He knew that most young men made nothing at all of giving a
+ pretty girl a kiss, and he remembered that the night before, when he had
+ put his arm about Mattie, she had not resisted. But that had been
+ out-of-doors, under the open irresponsible night. Now, in the warm lamplit
+ room, with all its ancient implications of conformity and order, she
+ seemed infinitely farther away from him and more unapproachable.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ To ease his constraint he said: “I suppose they’ll be setting a date
+ before long.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Yes. I shouldn’t wonder if they got married some time along in the
+ summer.” She pronounced the word <i>married</i> as if her voice caressed it. It
+ seemed a rustling covert leading to enchanted glades. A pang shot through
+ Ethan, and he said, twisting away from her in his chair: “It’ll be your
+ turn next, I wouldn’t wonder.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She laughed a little uncertainly. “Why do you keep on saying that?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He echoed her laugh. “I guess I do it to get used to the idea.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He drew up to the table again and she sewed on in silence, with dropped
+ lashes, while he sat in fascinated contemplation of the way in which her
+ hands went up and down above the strip of stuff, just as he had seen a
+ pair of birds make short perpendicular flights over a nest they were
+ building. At length, without turning her head or lifting her lids, she
+ said in a low tone: “It’s not because you think Zeena’s got anything
+ against me, is it?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ His former dread started up full-armed at the suggestion. “Why, what do
+ you mean?” he stammered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She raised distressed eyes to his, her work dropping on the table between
+ them. “I don’t know. I thought last night she seemed to have.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’d like to know what,” he growled.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Nobody can tell with Zeena.” It was the first time they had ever spoken
+ so openly of her attitude toward Mattie, and the repetition of the name
+ seemed to carry it to the farther corners of the room and send it back to
+ them in long repercussions of sound. Mattie waited, as if to give the echo
+ time to drop, and then went on: “She hasn’t said anything to <i>you</i>?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He shook his head. “No, not a word.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She tossed the hair back from her forehead with a laugh. “I guess I’m just
+ nervous, then. I’m not going to think about it any more.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, no—don’t let’s think about it, Matt!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The sudden heat of his tone made her colour mount again, not with a rush,
+ but gradually, delicately, like the reflection of a thought stealing
+ slowly across her heart. She sat silent, her hands clasped on her work,
+ and it seemed to him that a warm current flowed toward him along the strip
+ of stuff that still lay unrolled between them. Cautiously he slid his hand
+ palm-downward along the table till his finger-tips touched the end of the
+ stuff. A faint vibration of her lashes seemed to show that she was aware
+ of his gesture, and that it had sent a counter-current back to her; and
+ she let her hands lie motionless on the other end of the strip.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As they sat thus he heard a sound behind him and turned his head. The cat
+ had jumped from Zeena’s chair to dart at a mouse in the wainscot, and as a
+ result of the sudden movement the empty chair had set up a spectral
+ rocking.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “She’ll be rocking in it herself this time to-morrow,” Ethan thought.
+ “I’ve been in a dream, and this is the only evening we’ll ever have
+ together.” The return to reality was as painful as the return to
+ consciousness after taking an anaesthetic. His body and brain ached with
+ indescribable weariness, and he could think of nothing to say or to do
+ that should arrest the mad flight of the moments.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ His alteration of mood seemed to have communicated itself to Mattie. She
+ looked up at him languidly, as though her lids were weighted with sleep
+ and it cost her an effort to raise them. Her glance fell on his hand,
+ which now completely covered the end of her work and grasped it as if it
+ were a part of herself. He saw a scarcely perceptible tremor cross her
+ face, and without knowing what he did he stooped his head and kissed the
+ bit of stuff in his hold. As his lips rested on it he felt it glide slowly
+ from beneath them, and saw that Mattie had risen and was silently rolling
+ up her work. She fastened it with a pin, and then, finding her thimble and
+ scissors, put them with the roll of stuff into the box covered with fancy
+ paper which he had once brought to her from Bettsbridge.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He stood up also, looking vaguely about the room. The clock above the
+ dresser struck eleven.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Is the fire all right?” she asked in a low voice.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He opened the door of the stove and poked aimlessly at the embers. When he
+ raised himself again he saw that she was dragging toward the stove the old
+ soap-box lined with carpet in which the cat made its bed. Then she
+ recrossed the floor and lifted two of the geranium pots in her arms,
+ moving them away from the cold window. He followed her and brought the
+ other geraniums, the hyacinth bulbs in a cracked custard bowl and the
+ German ivy trained over an old croquet hoop.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When these nightly duties were performed there was nothing left to do but
+ to bring in the tin candlestick from the passage, light the candle and
+ blow out the lamp. Ethan put the candlestick in Mattie’s hand and she went
+ out of the kitchen ahead of him, the light that she carried before her
+ making her dark hair look like a drift of mist on the moon.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Good night, Matt,” he said as she put her foot on the first step of the
+ stairs.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She turned and looked at him a moment. “Good night, Ethan,” she answered,
+ and went up.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When the door of her room had closed on her he remembered that he had not
+ even touched her hand.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a id="link2H_4_0007">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br><br><br><br>
+ </div>
+ <div class='chapter'><h2>
+ VI
+ </h2></div>
+ <p>
+ The next morning at breakfast Jotham Powell was between them, and Ethan
+ tried to hide his joy under an air of exaggerated indifference, lounging
+ back in his chair to throw scraps to the cat, growling at the weather, and
+ not so much as offering to help Mattie when she rose to clear away the
+ dishes.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He did not know why he was so irrationally happy, for nothing was changed
+ in his life or hers. He had not even touched the tip of her fingers or
+ looked her full in the eyes. But their evening together had given him a
+ vision of what life at her side might be, and he was glad now that he had
+ done nothing to trouble the sweetness of the picture. He had a fancy that
+ she knew what had restrained him....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There was a last load of lumber to be hauled to the village, and Jotham
+ Powell—who did not work regularly for Ethan in winter—had
+ “come round” to help with the job. But a wet snow, melting to sleet, had
+ fallen in the night and turned the roads to glass. There was more wet in
+ the air and it seemed likely to both men that the weather would “milden”
+ toward afternoon and make the going safer. Ethan therefore proposed to his
+ assistant that they should load the sledge at the wood-lot, as they had
+ done on the previous morning, and put off the “teaming” to Starkfield till
+ later in the day. This plan had the advantage of enabling him to send
+ Jotham to the Flats after dinner to meet Zenobia, while he himself took
+ the lumber down to the village.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He told Jotham to go out and harness up the greys, and for a moment he and
+ Mattie had the kitchen to themselves. She had plunged the breakfast dishes
+ into a tin dish-pan and was bending above it with her slim arms bared to
+ the elbow, the steam from the hot water beading her forehead and
+ tightening her rough hair into little brown rings like the tendrils on the
+ traveller’s joy.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan stood looking at her, his heart in his throat. He wanted to say: “We
+ shall never be alone again like this.” Instead, he reached down his
+ tobacco-pouch from a shelf of the dresser, put it into his pocket and
+ said: “I guess I can make out to be home for dinner.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She answered “All right, Ethan,” and he heard her singing over the dishes
+ as he went.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As soon as the sledge was loaded he meant to send Jotham back to the farm
+ and hurry on foot into the village to buy the glue for the pickle-dish.
+ With ordinary luck he should have had time to carry out this plan; but
+ everything went wrong from the start. On the way over to the wood-lot one
+ of the greys slipped on a glare of ice and cut his knee; and when they got
+ him up again Jotham had to go back to the barn for a strip of rag to bind
+ the cut. Then, when the loading finally began, a sleety rain was coming
+ down once more, and the tree trunks were so slippery that it took twice as
+ long as usual to lift them and get them in place on the sledge. It was
+ what Jotham called a sour morning for work, and the horses, shivering and
+ stamping under their wet blankets, seemed to like it as little as the men.
+ It was long past the dinner-hour when the job was done, and Ethan had to
+ give up going to the village because he wanted to lead the injured horse
+ home and wash the cut himself.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He thought that by starting out again with the lumber as soon as he had
+ finished his dinner he might get back to the farm with the glue before
+ Jotham and the old sorrel had had time to fetch Zenobia from the Flats;
+ but he knew the chance was a slight one. It turned on the state of the
+ roads and on the possible lateness of the Bettsbridge train. He remembered
+ afterward, with a grim flash of self-derision, what importance he had
+ attached to the weighing of these probabilities....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As soon as dinner was over he set out again for the wood-lot, not daring
+ to linger till Jotham Powell left. The hired man was still drying his wet
+ feet at the stove, and Ethan could only give Mattie a quick look as he
+ said beneath his breath: “I’ll be back early.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He fancied that she nodded her comprehension; and with that scant solace
+ he had to trudge off through the rain.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He had driven his load half-way to the village when Jotham Powell overtook
+ him, urging the reluctant sorrel toward the Flats. “I’ll have to hurry up
+ to do it,” Ethan mused, as the sleigh dropped down ahead of him over the
+ dip of the school-house hill. He worked like ten at the unloading, and
+ when it was over hastened on to Michael Eady’s for the glue. Eady and his
+ assistant were both “down street,” and young Denis, who seldom deigned to
+ take their place, was lounging by the stove with a knot of the golden
+ youth of Starkfield. They hailed Ethan with ironic compliment and offers
+ of conviviality; but no one knew where to find the glue. Ethan, consumed
+ with the longing for a last moment alone with Mattie, hung about
+ impatiently while Denis made an ineffectual search in the obscurer corners
+ of the store.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Looks as if we were all sold out. But if you’ll wait around till the old
+ man comes along maybe he can put his hand on it.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’m obliged to you, but I’ll try if I can get it down at Mrs. Homan’s,”
+ Ethan answered, burning to be gone.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Denis’s commercial instinct compelled him to aver on oath that what Eady’s
+ store could not produce would never be found at the widow Homan’s; but
+ Ethan, heedless of this boast, had already climbed to the sledge and was
+ driving on to the rival establishment. Here, after considerable search,
+ and sympathetic questions as to what he wanted it for, and whether
+ ordinary flour paste wouldn’t do as well if she couldn’t find it, the
+ widow Homan finally hunted down her solitary bottle of glue to its
+ hiding-place in a medley of cough-lozenges and corset-laces.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I hope Zeena ain’t broken anything she sets store by,” she called after
+ him as he turned the greys toward home.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The fitful bursts of sleet had changed into a steady rain and the horses
+ had heavy work even without a load behind them. Once or twice, hearing
+ sleigh-bells, Ethan turned his head, fancying that Zeena and Jotham might
+ overtake him; but the old sorrel was not in sight, and he set his face
+ against the rain and urged on his ponderous pair.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The barn was empty when the horses turned into it and, after giving them
+ the most perfunctory ministrations they had ever received from him, he
+ strode up to the house and pushed open the kitchen door.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie was there alone, as he had pictured her. She was bending over a pan
+ on the stove; but at the sound of his step she turned with a start and
+ sprang to him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “See, here, Matt, I’ve got some stuff to mend the dish with! Let me get at
+ it quick,” he cried, waving the bottle in one hand while he put her
+ lightly aside; but she did not seem to hear him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Ethan—Zeena’s come,” she said in a whisper, clutching his
+ sleeve.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They stood and stared at each other, pale as culprits.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “But the sorrel’s not in the barn!” Ethan stammered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Jotham Powell brought some goods over from the Flats for his wife, and he
+ drove right on home with them,” she explained.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He gazed blankly about the kitchen, which looked cold and squalid in the
+ rainy winter twilight.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “How is she?” he asked, dropping his voice to Mattie’s whisper.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She looked away from him uncertainly. “I don’t know. She went right up to
+ her room.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “She didn’t say anything?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan let out his doubts in a low whistle and thrust the bottle back into
+ his pocket. “Don’t fret; I’ll come down and mend it in the night,” he
+ said. He pulled on his wet coat again and went back to the barn to feed
+ the greys.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ While he was there Jotham Powell drove up with the sleigh, and when the
+ horses had been attended to Ethan said to him: “You might as well come
+ back up for a bite.” He was not sorry to assure himself of Jotham’s
+ neutralising presence at the supper table, for Zeena was always “nervous”
+ after a journey. But the hired man, though seldom loth to accept a meal
+ not included in his wages, opened his stiff jaws to answer slowly: “I’m
+ obliged to you, but I guess I’ll go along back.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan looked at him in surprise. “Better come up and dry off. Looks as if
+ there’d be something hot for supper.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Jotham’s facial muscles were unmoved by this appeal and, his vocabulary
+ being limited, he merely repeated: “I guess I’ll go along back.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ To Ethan there was something vaguely ominous in this stolid rejection of
+ free food and warmth, and he wondered what had happened on the drive to
+ nerve Jotham to such stoicism. Perhaps Zeena had failed to see the new
+ doctor or had not liked his counsels: Ethan knew that in such cases the
+ first person she met was likely to be held responsible for her grievance.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When he re-entered the kitchen the lamp lit up the same scene of shining
+ comfort as on the previous evening. The table had been as carefully laid,
+ a clear fire glowed in the stove, the cat dozed in its warmth, and Mattie
+ came forward carrying a plate of dough-nuts.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She and Ethan looked at each other in silence; then she said, as she had
+ said the night before: “I guess it’s about time for supper.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a id="link2H_4_0008">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br><br><br><br>
+ </div>
+ <div class='chapter'><h2>
+ VII
+ </h2></div>
+ <p>
+ Ethan went out into the passage to hang up his wet garments. He listened
+ for Zeena’s step and, not hearing it, called her name up the stairs. She
+ did not answer, and after a moment’s hesitation he went up and opened her
+ door. The room was almost dark, but in the obscurity he saw her sitting by
+ the window, bolt upright, and knew by the rigidity of the outline
+ projected against the pane that she had not taken off her travelling
+ dress.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well, Zeena,” he ventured from the threshold.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She did not move, and he continued: “Supper’s about ready. Ain’t you
+ coming?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She replied: “I don’t feel as if I could touch a morsel.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was the consecrated formula, and he expected it to be followed, as
+ usual, by her rising and going down to supper. But she remained seated,
+ and he could think of nothing more felicitous than: “I presume you’re
+ tired after the long ride.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Turning her head at this, she answered solemnly: “I’m a great deal sicker
+ than you think.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her words fell on his ear with a strange shock of wonder. He had often
+ heard her pronounce them before—what if at last they were true?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He advanced a step or two into the dim room. “I hope that’s not so,
+ Zeena,” he said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She continued to gaze at him through the twilight with a mien of wan
+ authority, as of one consciously singled out for a great fate. “I’ve got
+ complications,” she said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan knew the word for one of exceptional import. Almost everybody in the
+ neighbourhood had “troubles,” frankly localized and specified; but only
+ the chosen had “complications.” To have them was in itself a distinction,
+ though it was also, in most cases, a death-warrant. People struggled on
+ for years with “troubles,” but they almost always succumbed to
+ “complications.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan’s heart was jerking to and fro between two extremities of feeling,
+ but for the moment compassion prevailed. His wife looked so hard and
+ lonely, sitting there in the darkness with such thoughts.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Is that what the new doctor told you?” he asked, instinctively lowering
+ his voice.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Yes. He says any regular doctor would want me to have an operation.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan was aware that, in regard to the important question of surgical
+ intervention, the female opinion of the neighbourhood was divided, some
+ glorying in the prestige conferred by operations while others shunned them
+ as indelicate. Ethan, from motives of economy, had always been glad that
+ Zeena was of the latter faction.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ In the agitation caused by the gravity of her announcement he sought a
+ consolatory short cut. “What do you know about this doctor anyway? Nobody
+ ever told you that before.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He saw his blunder before she could take it up: she wanted sympathy, not
+ consolation.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I didn’t need to have anybody tell me I was losing ground every day.
+ Everybody but you could see it. And everybody in Bettsbridge knows about
+ Dr. Buck. He has his office in Worcester, and comes over once a fortnight
+ to Shadd’s Falls and Bettsbridge for consultations. Eliza Spears was
+ wasting away with kidney trouble before she went to him, and now she’s up
+ and around, and singing in the choir.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well, I’m glad of that. You must do just what he tells you,” Ethan
+ answered sympathetically.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She was still looking at him. “I mean to,” she said. He was struck by a
+ new note in her voice. It was neither whining nor reproachful, but drily
+ resolute.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “What does he want you should do?” he asked, with a mounting vision of
+ fresh expenses.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “He wants I should have a hired girl. He says I oughtn’t to have to do a
+ single thing around the house.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “A hired girl?” Ethan stood transfixed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Yes. And Aunt Martha found me one right off. Everybody said I was lucky
+ to get a girl to come away out here, and I agreed to give her a dollar
+ extry to make sure. She’ll be over to-morrow afternoon.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Wrath and dismay contended in Ethan. He had foreseen an immediate demand
+ for money, but not a permanent drain on his scant resources. He no longer
+ believed what Zeena had told him of the supposed seriousness of her state:
+ he saw in her expedition to Bettsbridge only a plot hatched between
+ herself and her Pierce relations to foist on him the cost of a servant;
+ and for the moment wrath predominated.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “If you meant to engage a girl you ought to have told me before you
+ started,” he said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “How could I tell you before I started? How did I know what Dr. Buck would
+ say?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Dr. Buck—” Ethan’s incredulity escaped in a short laugh. “Did
+ Dr. Buck tell you how I was to pay her wages?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her voice rose furiously with his. “No, he didn’t. For I’d ’a’ been
+ ashamed to tell <i>him</i> that you grudged me the money to get back my health,
+ when I lost it nursing your own mother!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “<i>You</i> lost your health nursing mother?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Yes; and my folks all told me at the time you couldn’t do no less than
+ marry me after—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Zeena!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Through the obscurity which hid their faces their thoughts seemed to dart
+ at each other like serpents shooting venom. Ethan was seized with horror
+ of the scene and shame at his own share in it. It was as senseless and
+ savage as a physical fight between two enemies in the darkness.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He turned to the shelf above the chimney, groped for matches and lit the
+ one candle in the room. At first its weak flame made no impression on the
+ shadows; then Zeena’s face stood grimly out against the uncurtained pane,
+ which had turned from grey to black.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was the first scene of open anger between the couple in their sad seven
+ years together, and Ethan felt as if he had lost an irretrievable
+ advantage in descending to the level of recrimination. But the practical
+ problem was there and had to be dealt with.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You know I haven’t got the money to pay for a girl, Zeena. You’ll have to
+ send her back: I can’t do it.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “The doctor says it’ll be my death if I go on slaving the way I’ve had to.
+ He doesn’t understand how I’ve stood it as long as I have.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Slaving!—” He checked himself again, “You sha’n’t lift a hand, if
+ he says so. I’ll do everything round the house myself—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She broke in: “You’re neglecting the farm enough already,” and this being
+ true, he found no answer, and left her time to add ironically: “Better
+ send me over to the almshouse and done with it.... I guess there’s been
+ Fromes there afore now.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The taunt burned into him, but he let it pass. “I haven’t got the money.
+ That settles it.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There was a moment’s pause in the struggle, as though the combatants were
+ testing their weapons. Then Zeena said in a level voice: “I thought you
+ were to get fifty dollars from Andrew Hale for that lumber.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Andrew Hale never pays under three months.” He had hardly spoken when he
+ remembered the excuse he had made for not accompanying his wife to the
+ station the day before; and the blood rose to his frowning brows.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why, you told me yesterday you’d fixed it up with him to pay cash down.
+ You said that was why you couldn’t drive me over to the Flats.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan had no suppleness in deceiving. He had never before been convicted
+ of a lie, and all the resources of evasion failed him. “I guess that was a
+ misunderstanding,” he stammered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You ain’t got the money?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “And you ain’t going to get it?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well, I couldn’t know that when I engaged the girl, could I?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No.” He paused to control his voice. “But you know it now. I’m sorry, but
+ it can’t be helped. You’re a poor man’s wife, Zeena; but I’ll do the best
+ I can for you.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ For a while she sat motionless, as if reflecting, her arms stretched along
+ the arms of her chair, her eyes fixed on vacancy. “Oh, I guess we’ll make
+ out,” she said mildly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The change in her tone reassured him. “Of course we will! There’s a whole
+ lot more I can do for you, and Mattie—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena, while he spoke, seemed to be following out some elaborate mental
+ calculation. She emerged from it to say: “There’ll be Mattie’s board less,
+ any how—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan, supposing the discussion to be over, had turned to go down to
+ supper. He stopped short, not grasping what he heard. “Mattie’s board less—?”
+ he began.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena laughed. It was an odd unfamiliar sound—he did not remember
+ ever having heard her laugh before. “You didn’t suppose I was going to
+ keep two girls, did you? No wonder you were scared at the expense!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He still had but a confused sense of what she was saying. From the
+ beginning of the discussion he had instinctively avoided the mention of
+ Mattie’s name, fearing he hardly knew what: criticism, complaints, or
+ vague allusions to the imminent probability of her marrying. But the
+ thought of a definite rupture had never come to him, and even now could
+ not lodge itself in his mind.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I don’t know what you mean,” he said. “Mattie Silver’s not a hired girl.
+ She’s your relation.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “She’s a pauper that’s hung onto us all after her father’d done his best
+ to ruin us. I’ve kep’ her here a whole year: it’s somebody else’s turn
+ now.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As the shrill words shot out Ethan heard a tap on the door, which he had
+ drawn shut when he turned back from the threshold.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Ethan—Zeena!” Mattie’s voice sounded gaily from the landing, “do
+ you know what time it is? Supper’s been ready half an hour.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Inside the room there was a moment’s silence; then Zeena called out from
+ her seat: “I’m not coming down to supper.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, I’m sorry! Aren’t you well? Sha’n’t I bring you up a bite of
+ something?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan roused himself with an effort and opened the door. “Go along down,
+ Matt. Zeena’s just a little tired. I’m coming.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He heard her “All right!” and her quick step on the stairs; then he shut
+ the door and turned back into the room. His wife’s attitude was unchanged,
+ her face inexorable, and he was seized with the despairing sense of his
+ helplessness.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You ain’t going to do it, Zeena?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Do what?” she emitted between flattened lips.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Send Mattie away—like this?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I never bargained to take her for life!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He continued with rising vehemence: “You can’t put her out of the house
+ like a thief—a poor girl without friends or money. She’s done her
+ best for you and she’s got no place to go to. You may forget she’s your
+ kin but everybody else’ll remember it. If you do a thing like that what do
+ you suppose folks’ll say of you?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena waited a moment, as if giving him time to feel the full force of the
+ contrast between his own excitement and her composure. Then she replied in
+ the same smooth voice: “I know well enough what they say of my having kep’
+ her here as long as I have.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan’s hand dropped from the door-knob, which he had held clenched since
+ he had drawn the door shut on Mattie. His wife’s retort was like a
+ knife-cut across the sinews and he felt suddenly weak and powerless. He
+ had meant to humble himself, to argue that Mattie’s keep didn’t cost much,
+ after all, that he could make out to buy a stove and fix up a place in the
+ attic for the hired girl—but Zeena’s words revealed the peril of
+ such pleadings.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You mean to tell her she’s got to go—at once?” he faltered out, in
+ terror of letting his wife complete her sentence.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As if trying to make him see reason she replied impartially: “The girl
+ will be over from Bettsbridge to-morrow, and I presume she’s got to have
+ somewheres to sleep.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan looked at her with loathing. She was no longer the listless creature
+ who had lived at his side in a state of sullen self-absorption, but a
+ mysterious alien presence, an evil energy secreted from the long years of
+ silent brooding. It was the sense of his helplessness that sharpened his
+ antipathy. There had never been anything in her that one could appeal to;
+ but as long as he could ignore and command he had remained indifferent.
+ Now she had mastered him and he abhorred her. Mattie was her relation, not
+ his: there were no means by which he could compel her to keep the girl
+ under her roof. All the long misery of his baffled past, of his youth of
+ failure, hardship and vain effort, rose up in his soul in bitterness and
+ seemed to take shape before him in the woman who at every turn had barred
+ his way. She had taken everything else from him; and now she meant to take
+ the one thing that made up for all the others. For a moment such a flame
+ of hate rose in him that it ran down his arm and clenched his fist against
+ her. He took a wild step forward and then stopped.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You’re—you’re not coming down?” he said in a bewildered voice.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No. I guess I’ll lay down on the bed a little while,” she answered
+ mildly; and he turned and walked out of the room.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ In the kitchen Mattie was sitting by the stove, the cat curled up on her
+ knees. She sprang to her feet as Ethan entered and carried the covered
+ dish of meat-pie to the table.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I hope Zeena isn’t sick?” she asked.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She shone at him across the table. “Well, sit right down then. You must be
+ starving.” She uncovered the pie and pushed it over to him. So they were
+ to have one more evening together, her happy eyes seemed to say!
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He helped himself mechanically and began to eat; then disgust took him by
+ the throat and he laid down his fork.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie’s tender gaze was on him and she marked the gesture.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why, Ethan, what’s the matter? Don’t it taste right?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Yes—it’s first-rate. Only I—” He pushed his plate away,
+ rose from his chair, and walked around the table to her side. She started
+ up with frightened eyes.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Ethan, there’s something wrong! I <i>knew</i> there was!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She seemed to melt against him in her terror, and he caught her in his
+ arms, held her fast there, felt her lashes beat his cheek like netted
+ butterflies.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “What is it—what is it?” she stammered; but he had found her lips at
+ last and was drinking unconsciousness of everything but the joy they gave
+ him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She lingered a moment, caught in the same strong current; then she slipped
+ from him and drew back a step or two, pale and troubled. Her look smote
+ him with compunction, and he cried out, as if he saw her drowning in a
+ dream: “You can’t go, Matt! I’ll never let you!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Go—go?” she stammered. “Must I go?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The words went on sounding between them as though a torch of warning flew
+ from hand to hand through a black landscape.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan was overcome with shame at his lack of self-control in flinging the
+ news at her so brutally. His head reeled and he had to support himself
+ against the table. All the while he felt as if he were still kissing her,
+ and yet dying of thirst for her lips.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Ethan, what has happened? Is Zeena mad with me?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her cry steadied him, though it deepened his wrath and pity. “No, no,” he
+ assured her, “it’s not that. But this new doctor has scared her about
+ herself. You know she believes all they say the first time she sees them.
+ And this one’s told her she won’t get well unless she lays up and don’t do
+ a thing about the house—not for months—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He paused, his eyes wandering from her miserably. She stood silent a
+ moment, drooping before him like a broken branch. She was so small and
+ weak-looking that it wrung his heart; but suddenly she lifted her head and
+ looked straight at him. “And she wants somebody handier in my place? Is
+ that it?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “That’s what she says to-night.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “If she says it to-night she’ll say it to-morrow.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Both bowed to the inexorable truth: they knew that Zeena never changed her
+ mind, and that in her case a resolve once taken was equivalent to an act
+ performed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There was a long silence between them; then Mattie said in a low voice:
+ “Don’t be too sorry, Ethan.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, God—oh, God,” he groaned. The glow of passion he had felt for
+ her had melted to an aching tenderness. He saw her quick lids beating back
+ the tears, and longed to take her in his arms and soothe her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You’re letting your supper get cold,” she admonished him with a pale
+ gleam of gaiety.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Matt—Matt—where’ll you go to?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her lids sank and a tremor crossed her face. He saw that for the first
+ time the thought of the future came to her distinctly. “I might get
+ something to do over at Stamford,” she faltered, as if knowing that he
+ knew she had no hope.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He dropped back into his seat and hid his face in his hands. Despair
+ seized him at the thought of her setting out alone to renew the weary
+ quest for work. In the only place where she was known she was surrounded
+ by indifference or animosity; and what chance had she, inexperienced and
+ untrained, among the million bread-seekers of the cities? There came back
+ to him miserable tales he had heard at Worcester, and the faces of girls
+ whose lives had begun as hopefully as Mattie’s.... It was not possible to
+ think of such things without a revolt of his whole being. He sprang up
+ suddenly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You can’t go, Matt! I won’t let you! She’s always had her way, but I mean
+ to have mine now—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie lifted her hand with a quick gesture, and he heard his wife’s step
+ behind him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena came into the room with her dragging down-at-the-heel step, and
+ quietly took her accustomed seat between them.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I felt a little mite better, and Dr. Buck says I ought to eat all I can
+ to keep my strength up, even if I ain’t got any appetite,” she said in her
+ flat whine, reaching across Mattie for the teapot. Her “good” dress had
+ been replaced by the black calico and brown knitted shawl which formed her
+ daily wear, and with them she had put on her usual face and manner. She
+ poured out her tea, added a great deal of milk to it, helped herself
+ largely to pie and pickles, and made the familiar gesture of adjusting her
+ false teeth before she began to eat. The cat rubbed itself ingratiatingly
+ against her, and she said “Good Pussy,” stooped to stroke it and gave it a
+ scrap of meat from her plate.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan sat speechless, not pretending to eat, but Mattie nibbled valiantly
+ at her food and asked Zeena one or two questions about her visit to
+ Bettsbridge. Zeena answered in her every-day tone and, warming to the
+ theme, regaled them with several vivid descriptions of intestinal
+ disturbances among her friends and relatives. She looked straight at
+ Mattie as she spoke, a faint smile deepening the vertical lines between
+ her nose and chin.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When supper was over she rose from her seat and pressed her hand to the
+ flat surface over the region of her heart. “That pie of yours always sets
+ a mite heavy, Matt,” she said, not ill-naturedly. She seldom abbreviated
+ the girl’s name, and when she did so it was always a sign of affability.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’ve a good mind to go and hunt up those stomach powders I got last year
+ over in Springfield,” she continued. “I ain’t tried them for quite a
+ while, and maybe they’ll help the heartburn.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie lifted her eyes. “Can’t I get them for you, Zeena?” she ventured.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No. They’re in a place you don’t know about,” Zeena answered darkly, with
+ one of her secret looks.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She went out of the kitchen and Mattie, rising, began to clear the dishes
+ from the table. As she passed Ethan’s chair their eyes met and clung
+ together desolately. The warm still kitchen looked as peaceful as the
+ night before. The cat had sprung to Zeena’s rocking-chair, and the heat of
+ the fire was beginning to draw out the faint sharp scent of the geraniums.
+ Ethan dragged himself wearily to his feet.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’ll go out and take a look around,” he said, going toward the passage to
+ get his lantern.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As he reached the door he met Zeena coming back into the room, her lips
+ twitching with anger, a flush of excitement on her sallow face. The shawl
+ had slipped from her shoulders and was dragging at her down-trodden heels,
+ and in her hands she carried the fragments of the red glass pickle-dish.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’d like to know who done this,” she said, looking sternly from Ethan to
+ Mattie.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There was no answer, and she continued in a trembling voice: “I went to
+ get those powders I’d put away in father’s old spectacle-case, top of the
+ china-closet, where I keep the things I set store by, so’s folks shan’t
+ meddle with them—” Her voice broke, and two small tears hung on her
+ lashless lids and ran slowly down her cheeks. “It takes the stepladder to
+ get at the top shelf, and I put Aunt Philura Maple’s pickle-dish up there
+ o’ purpose when we was married, and it’s never been down since, ’cept for
+ the spring cleaning, and then I always lifted it with my own hands, so’s
+ ’t it shouldn’t get broke.” She laid the fragments reverently on the table.
+ “I want to know who done this,” she quavered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ At the challenge Ethan turned back into the room and faced her. “I can
+ tell you, then. The cat done it.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “The <i>cat</i>?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “That’s what I said.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She looked at him hard, and then turned her eyes to Mattie, who was
+ carrying the dish-pan to the table.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’d like to know how the cat got into my china-closet,” she said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Chasin’ mice, I guess,” Ethan rejoined. “There was a mouse round the
+ kitchen all last evening.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena continued to look from one to the other; then she emitted her small
+ strange laugh. “I knew the cat was a smart cat,” she said in a high voice,
+ “but I didn’t know he was smart enough to pick up the pieces of my
+ pickle-dish and lay ’em edge to edge on the very shelf he knocked ’em off
+ of.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie suddenly drew her arms out of the steaming water. “It wasn’t
+ Ethan’s fault, Zeena! The cat <i>did</i> break the dish; but I got it down from
+ the china-closet, and I’m the one to blame for its getting broken.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena stood beside the ruin of her treasure, stiffening into a stony image
+ of resentment, “<i>You</i> got down my pickle-dish—what for?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ A bright flush flew to Mattie’s cheeks. “I wanted to make the supper-table
+ pretty,” she said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You wanted to make the supper-table pretty; and you waited till my back
+ was turned, and took the thing I set most store by of anything I’ve got,
+ and wouldn’t never use it, not even when the minister come to dinner, or
+ Aunt Martha Pierce come over from Bettsbridge—” Zeena paused with a
+ gasp, as if terrified by her own evocation of the sacrilege. “You’re a bad
+ girl, Mattie Silver, and I always known it. It’s the way your father
+ begun, and I was warned of it when I took you, and I tried to keep my
+ things where you couldn’t get at ’em—and now you’ve took from me the
+ one I cared for most of all—” She broke off in a short spasm of sobs
+ that passed and left her more than ever like a shape of stone.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “If I’d ’a’ listened to folks, you’d ’a’ gone before now, and this
+ wouldn’t ’a’ happened,” she said; and gathering up the bits of broken
+ glass she went out of the room as if she carried a dead body....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a id="link2H_4_0009">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br><br><br><br>
+ </div>
+ <div class='chapter'><h2>
+ VIII
+ </h2></div>
+ <p>
+ When Ethan was called back to the farm by his father’s illness his mother
+ gave him, for his own use, a small room behind the untenanted “best
+ parlour.” Here he had nailed up shelves for his books, built himself a
+ box-sofa out of boards and a mattress, laid out his papers on a
+ kitchen-table, hung on the rough plaster wall an engraving of Abraham
+ Lincoln and a calendar with “Thoughts from the Poets,” and tried, with
+ these meagre properties, to produce some likeness to the study of a
+ “minister” who had been kind to him and lent him books when he was at
+ Worcester. He still took refuge there in summer, but when Mattie came to
+ live at the farm he had to give her his stove, and consequently the room
+ was uninhabitable for several months of the year.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ To this retreat he descended as soon as the house was quiet, and Zeena’s
+ steady breathing from the bed had assured him that there was to be no
+ sequel to the scene in the kitchen. After Zeena’s departure he and Mattie
+ had stood speechless, neither seeking to approach the other. Then the girl
+ had returned to her task of clearing up the kitchen for the night and he
+ had taken his lantern and gone on his usual round outside the house. The
+ kitchen was empty when he came back to it; but his tobacco-pouch and pipe
+ had been laid on the table, and under them was a scrap of paper torn from
+ the back of a seedsman’s catalogue, on which three words were written:
+ “Don’t trouble, Ethan.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Going into his cold dark “study” he placed the lantern on the table and,
+ stooping to its light, read the message again and again. It was the first
+ time that Mattie had ever written to him, and the possession of the paper
+ gave him a strange new sense of her nearness; yet it deepened his anguish
+ by reminding him that henceforth they would have no other way of
+ communicating with each other. For the life of her smile, the warmth of
+ her voice, only cold paper and dead words!
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Confused motions of rebellion stormed in him. He was too young, too
+ strong, too full of the sap of living, to submit so easily to the
+ destruction of his hopes. Must he wear out all his years at the side of a
+ bitter querulous woman? Other possibilities had been in him, possibilities
+ sacrificed, one by one, to Zeena’s narrow-mindedness and ignorance. And
+ what good had come of it? She was a hundred times bitterer and more
+ discontented than when he had married her: the one pleasure left her was
+ to inflict pain on him. All the healthy instincts of self-defence rose up
+ in him against such waste....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He bundled himself into his old coon-skin coat and lay down on the
+ box-sofa to think. Under his cheek he felt a hard object with strange
+ protuberances. It was a cushion which Zeena had made for him when they
+ were engaged—the only piece of needlework he had ever seen her do.
+ He flung it across the floor and propped his head against the wall....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He knew a case of a man over the mountain—a young fellow of about
+ his own age—who had escaped from just such a life of misery by going
+ West with the girl he cared for. His wife had divorced him, and he had
+ married the girl and prospered. Ethan had seen the couple the summer
+ before at Shadd’s Falls, where they had come to visit relatives. They had
+ a little girl with fair curls, who wore a gold locket and was dressed like
+ a princess. The deserted wife had not done badly either. Her husband had
+ given her the farm and she had managed to sell it, and with that and the
+ alimony she had started a lunch-room at Bettsbridge and bloomed into
+ activity and importance. Ethan was fired by the thought. Why should he not
+ leave with Mattie the next day, instead of letting her go alone? He would
+ hide his valise under the seat of the sleigh, and Zeena would suspect
+ nothing till she went upstairs for her afternoon nap and found a letter on
+ the bed....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ His impulses were still near the surface, and he sprang up, re-lit the
+ lantern, and sat down at the table. He rummaged in the drawer for a sheet
+ of paper, found one, and began to write.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Zeena, I’ve done all I could for you, and I don’t see as it’s been any
+ use. I don’t blame you, nor I don’t blame myself. Maybe both of us will do
+ better separate. I’m going to try my luck West, and you can sell the farm
+ and mill, and keep the money—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ His pen paused on the word, which brought home to him the relentless
+ conditions of his lot. If he gave the farm and mill to Zeena what would be
+ left him to start his own life with? Once in the West he was sure of
+ picking up work—he would not have feared to try his chance alone.
+ But with Mattie depending on him the case was different. And what of
+ Zeena’s fate? Farm and mill were mortgaged to the limit of their value,
+ and even if she found a purchaser—in itself an unlikely chance—it
+ was doubtful if she could clear a thousand dollars on the sale. Meanwhile,
+ how could she keep the farm going? It was only by incessant labour and
+ personal supervision that Ethan drew a meagre living from his land, and
+ his wife, even if she were in better health than she imagined, could never
+ carry such a burden alone.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Well, she could go back to her people, then, and see what they would do
+ for her. It was the fate she was forcing on Mattie—why not let her
+ try it herself? By the time she had discovered his whereabouts, and
+ brought suit for divorce, he would probably—wherever he was—be
+ earning enough to pay her a sufficient alimony. And the alternative was to
+ let Mattie go forth alone, with far less hope of ultimate provision....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He had scattered the contents of the table-drawer in his search for a
+ sheet of paper, and as he took up his pen his eye fell on an old copy of
+ the <cite>Bettsbridge Eagle</cite>. The advertising sheet was folded uppermost, and he
+ read the seductive words: “Trips to the West: Reduced Rates.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He drew the lantern nearer and eagerly scanned the fares; then the paper
+ fell from his hand and he pushed aside his unfinished letter. A moment ago
+ he had wondered what he and Mattie were to live on when they reached the
+ West; now he saw that he had not even the money to take her there.
+ Borrowing was out of the question: six months before he had given his only
+ security to raise funds for necessary repairs to the mill, and he knew
+ that without security no one at Starkfield would lend him ten dollars. The
+ inexorable facts closed in on him like prison-warders handcuffing a
+ convict. There was no way out—none. He was a prisoner for life, and
+ now his one ray of light was to be extinguished.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He crept back heavily to the sofa, stretching himself out with limbs so
+ leaden that he felt as if they would never move again. Tears rose in his
+ throat and slowly burned their way to his lids.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As he lay there, the window-pane that faced him, growing gradually
+ lighter, inlaid upon the darkness a square of moon-suffused sky. A crooked
+ tree-branch crossed it, a branch of the apple-tree under which, on summer
+ evenings, he had sometimes found Mattie sitting when he came up from the
+ mill. Slowly the rim of the rainy vapours caught fire and burnt away, and
+ a pure moon swung into the blue. Ethan, rising on his elbow, watched the
+ landscape whiten and shape itself under the sculpture of the moon. This
+ was the night on which he was to have taken Mattie coasting, and there
+ hung the lamp to light them! He looked out at the slopes bathed in lustre,
+ the silver-edged darkness of the woods, the spectral purple of the hills
+ against the sky, and it seemed as though all the beauty of the night had
+ been poured out to mock his wretchedness....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He fell asleep, and when he woke the chill of the winter dawn was in the
+ room. He felt cold and stiff and hungry, and ashamed of being hungry. He
+ rubbed his eyes and went to the window. A red sun stood over the grey rim
+ of the fields, behind trees that looked black and brittle. He said to
+ himself: “This is Matt’s last day,” and tried to think what the place
+ would be without her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As he stood there he heard a step behind him and she entered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Ethan—were you here all night?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She looked so small and pinched, in her poor dress, with the red scarf
+ wound about her, and the cold light turning her paleness sallow, that
+ Ethan stood before her without speaking.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You must be frozen,” she went on, fixing lustreless eyes on him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He drew a step nearer. “How did you know I was here?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Because I heard you go down stairs again after I went to bed, and I
+ listened all night, and you didn’t come up.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ All his tenderness rushed to his lips. He looked at her and said: “I’ll
+ come right along and make up the kitchen fire.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They went back to the kitchen, and he fetched the coal and kindlings and
+ cleared out the stove for her, while she brought in the milk and the cold
+ remains of the meat-pie. When warmth began to radiate from the stove, and
+ the first ray of sunlight lay on the kitchen floor, Ethan’s dark thoughts
+ melted in the mellower air. The sight of Mattie going about her work as he
+ had seen her on so many mornings made it seem impossible that she should
+ ever cease to be a part of the scene. He said to himself that he had
+ doubtless exaggerated the significance of Zeena’s threats, and that she
+ too, with the return of daylight, would come to a saner mood.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He went up to Mattie as she bent above the stove, and laid his hand on her
+ arm. “I don’t want you should trouble either,” he said, looking down into
+ her eyes with a smile.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She flushed up warmly and whispered back: “No, Ethan, I ain’t going to
+ trouble.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I guess things’ll straighten out,” he added.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There was no answer but a quick throb of her lids, and he went on: “She
+ ain’t said anything this morning?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No. I haven’t seen her yet.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Don’t you take any notice when you do.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ With this injunction he left her and went out to the cow-barn. He saw
+ Jotham Powell walking up the hill through the morning mist, and the
+ familiar sight added to his growing conviction of security.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As the two men were clearing out the stalls Jotham rested on his
+ pitch-fork to say: “Dan’l Byrne’s goin’ over to the Flats to-day noon, an’
+ he c’d take Mattie’s trunk along, and make it easier ridin’ when I take
+ her over in the sleigh.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan looked at him blankly, and he continued: “Mis’ Frome said the new
+ girl’d be at the Flats at five, and I was to take Mattie then, so’s ’t she
+ could ketch the six o’clock train for Stamford.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan felt the blood drumming in his temples. He had to wait a moment
+ before he could find voice to say: “Oh, it ain’t so sure about Mattie’s
+ going—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “That so?” said Jotham indifferently; and they went on with their work.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ When they returned to the kitchen the two women were already at breakfast.
+ Zeena had an air of unusual alertness and activity. She drank two cups of
+ coffee and fed the cat with the scraps left in the pie-dish; then she rose
+ from her seat and, walking over to the window, snipped two or three yellow
+ leaves from the geraniums. “Aunt Martha’s ain’t got a faded leaf on ’em;
+ but they pine away when they ain’t cared for,” she said reflectively. Then
+ she turned to Jotham and asked: “What time’d you say Dan’l Byrne’d be
+ along?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The hired man threw a hesitating glance at Ethan.
+ “Round about noon,” he said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena turned to Mattie. “That trunk of yours is too heavy for the sleigh,
+ and Dan’l Byrne’ll be round to take it over to the Flats,” she said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’m much obliged to you, Zeena,” said Mattie.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’d like to go over things with you first,” Zeena continued in an
+ unperturbed voice. “I know there’s a huckabuck towel missing; and I can’t
+ make out what you done with that match-safe ’t used to stand behind the
+ stuffed owl in the parlour.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She went out, followed by Mattie, and when the men were alone Jotham said
+ to his employer: “I guess I better let Dan’l come round, then.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan finished his usual morning tasks about the house and barn; then he
+ said to Jotham: “I’m going down to Starkfield. Tell them not to wait
+ dinner.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The passion of rebellion had broken out in him again. That which had
+ seemed incredible in the sober light of day had really come to pass, and
+ he was to assist as a helpless spectator at Mattie’s banishment. His
+ manhood was humbled by the part he was compelled to play and by the
+ thought of what Mattie must think of him. Confused impulses struggled in
+ him as he strode along to the village. He had made up his mind to do
+ something, but he did not know what it would be.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The early mist had vanished and the fields lay like a silver shield under
+ the sun. It was one of the days when the glitter of winter shines through
+ a pale haze of spring. Every yard of the road was alive with Mattie’s
+ presence, and there was hardly a branch against the sky or a tangle of
+ brambles on the bank in which some bright shred of memory was not caught.
+ Once, in the stillness, the call of a bird in a mountain ash was so like
+ her laughter that his heart tightened and then grew large; and all these
+ things made him see that something must be done at once.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Suddenly it occurred to him that Andrew Hale, who was a kind-hearted man,
+ might be induced to reconsider his refusal and advance a small sum on the
+ lumber if he were told that Zeena’s ill-health made it necessary to hire a
+ servant. Hale, after all, knew enough of Ethan’s situation to make it
+ possible for the latter to renew his appeal without too much loss of
+ pride; and, moreover, how much did pride count in the ebullition of
+ passions in his breast?
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The more he considered his plan the more hopeful it seemed. If he could
+ get Mrs. Hale’s ear he felt certain of success, and with fifty dollars in
+ his pocket nothing could keep him from Mattie....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ His first object was to reach Starkfield before Hale had started for his
+ work; he knew the carpenter had a job down the Corbury road and was likely
+ to leave his house early. Ethan’s long strides grew more rapid with the
+ accelerated beat of his thoughts, and as he reached the foot of School
+ House Hill he caught sight of Hale’s sleigh in the distance. He hurried
+ forward to meet it, but as it drew nearer he saw that it was driven by the
+ carpenter’s youngest boy and that the figure at his side, looking like a
+ large upright cocoon in spectacles, was that of Mrs. Hale. Ethan signed to
+ them to stop, and Mrs. Hale leaned forward, her pink wrinkles twinkling
+ with benevolence.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Mr. Hale? Why, yes, you’ll find him down home now. He ain’t going to his
+ work this forenoon. He woke up with a touch o’ lumbago, and I just made
+ him put on one of old Dr. Kidder’s plasters and set right up into the
+ fire.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Beaming maternally on Ethan, she bent over to add: “I on’y just heard from
+ Mr. Hale ’bout Zeena’s going over to Bettsbridge to see that new doctor.
+ I’m real sorry she’s feeling so bad again! I hope he thinks he can do
+ something for her. I don’t know anybody round here’s had more sickness
+ than Zeena. I always tell Mr. Hale I don’t know what she’d ’a’ done if she
+ hadn’t ’a’ had you to look after her; and I used to say the same thing
+ ’bout your mother. You’ve had an awful mean time, Ethan Frome.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She gave him a last nod of sympathy while her son chirped to the horse;
+ and Ethan, as she drove off, stood in the middle of the road and stared
+ after the retreating sleigh.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was a long time since any one had spoken to him as kindly as Mrs. Hale.
+ Most people were either indifferent to his troubles, or disposed to think
+ it natural that a young fellow of his age should have carried without
+ repining the burden of three crippled lives. But Mrs. Hale had said,
+ “You’ve had an awful mean time, Ethan Frome,” and he felt less alone with
+ his misery. If the Hales were sorry for him they would surely respond to
+ his appeal....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He started down the road toward their house, but at the end of a few yards
+ he pulled up sharply, the blood in his face. For the first time, in the
+ light of the words he had just heard, he saw what he was about to do. He
+ was planning to take advantage of the Hales’ sympathy to obtain money from
+ them on false pretences. That was a plain statement of the cloudy purpose
+ which had driven him in headlong to Starkfield.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ With the sudden perception of the point to which his madness had carried
+ him, the madness fell and he saw his life before him as it was. He was a
+ poor man, the husband of a sickly woman, whom his desertion would leave
+ alone and destitute; and even if he had had the heart to desert her he
+ could have done so only by deceiving two kindly people who had pitied him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He turned and walked slowly back to the farm.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ <a id="link2H_4_0010">
+ <!-- H2 anchor --> </a>
+ </p>
+ <div style="height: 4em;">
+ <br><br><br><br>
+ </div>
+ <div class='chapter'><h2>
+ IX
+ </h2></div>
+ <p>
+ At the kitchen door Daniel Byrne sat in his sleigh behind a big-boned grey
+ who pawed the snow and swung his long head restlessly from side to side.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan went into the kitchen and found his wife by the stove. Her head was
+ wrapped in her shawl, and she was reading a book called “Kidney Troubles
+ and Their Cure” on which he had had to pay extra postage only a few days
+ before.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena did not move or look up when he entered, and after a moment he
+ asked: “Where’s Mattie?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Without lifting her eyes from the page she replied: “I presume she’s
+ getting down her trunk.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The blood rushed to his face. “Getting down her trunk—alone?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Jotham Powell’s down in the wood-lot, and Dan’l Byrne says he darsn’t
+ leave that horse,” she returned.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her husband, without stopping to hear the end of the phrase, had left the
+ kitchen and sprung up the stairs. The door of Mattie’s room was shut, and
+ he wavered a moment on the landing. “Matt,” he said in a low voice; but
+ there was no answer, and he put his hand on the door-knob.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He had never been in her room except once, in the early summer, when he
+ had gone there to plaster up a leak in the eaves, but he remembered
+ exactly how everything had looked: the red-and-white quilt on her narrow
+ bed, the pretty pin-cushion on the chest of drawers, and over it the
+ enlarged photograph of her mother, in an oxydized frame, with a bunch of
+ dyed grasses at the back. Now these and all other tokens of her presence
+ had vanished, and the room looked as bare and comfortless as when Zeena had
+ shown her into it on the day of her arrival. In the middle of the floor
+ stood her trunk, and on the trunk she sat in her Sunday dress, her back
+ turned to the door and her face in her hands. She had not heard Ethan’s
+ call because she was sobbing and she did not hear his step till he stood
+ close behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Matt—oh, don’t—oh, <i>Matt</i>!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She started up, lifting her wet face to his. “Ethan—I thought I
+ wasn’t ever going to see you again!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He took her in his arms, pressing her close, and with a trembling hand
+ smoothed away the hair from her forehead.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Not see me again? What do you mean?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She sobbed out: “Jotham said you told him we wasn’t to wait dinner for
+ you, and I thought—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You thought I meant to cut it?” he finished for her grimly.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She clung to him without answering, and he laid his lips on her hair,
+ which was soft yet springy, like certain mosses on warm slopes, and had
+ the faint woody fragrance of fresh sawdust in the sun.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Through the door they heard Zeena’s voice calling out from below: “Dan’l
+ Byrne says you better hurry up if you want him to take that trunk.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They drew apart with stricken faces. Words of resistance rushed to Ethan’s
+ lips and died there. Mattie found her handkerchief and dried her eyes;
+ then, bending down, she took hold of a handle of the trunk.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan put her aside. “You let go, Matt,” he ordered her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She answered: “It takes two to coax it round the corner”; and submitting
+ to this argument he grasped the other handle, and together they manoeuvred
+ the heavy trunk out to the landing.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Now let go,” he repeated; then he shouldered the trunk and carried it
+ down the stairs and across the passage to the kitchen. Zeena, who had gone
+ back to her seat by the stove, did not lift her head from her book as he
+ passed. Mattie followed him out of the door and helped him to lift the
+ trunk into the back of the sleigh. When it was in place they stood side by
+ side on the door-step, watching Daniel Byrne plunge off behind his fidgety
+ horse.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It seemed to Ethan that his heart was bound with cords which an unseen
+ hand was tightening with every tick of the clock. Twice he opened his lips
+ to speak to Mattie and found no breath. At length, as she turned to
+ re-enter the house, he laid a detaining hand on her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’m going to drive you over, Matt,” he whispered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She murmured back: “I think Zeena wants I should go with Jotham.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’m going to drive you over,” he repeated; and she went into the kitchen
+ without answering.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ At dinner Ethan could not eat. If he lifted his eyes they rested on
+ Zeena’s pinched face, and the corners of her straight lips seemed to
+ quiver away into a smile. She ate well, declaring that the mild weather
+ made her feel better, and pressed a second helping of beans on Jotham
+ Powell, whose wants she generally ignored.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie, when the meal was over, went about her usual task of clearing the
+ table and washing up the dishes. Zeena, after feeding the cat, had
+ returned to her rocking-chair by the stove, and Jotham Powell, who always
+ lingered last, reluctantly pushed back his chair and moved toward the
+ door.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ On the threshold he turned back to say to Ethan: “What time’ll I come
+ round for Mattie?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan was standing near the window, mechanically filling his pipe while he
+ watched Mattie move to and fro. He answered: “You needn’t come round; I’m
+ going to drive her over myself.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He saw the rise of the colour in Mattie’s averted cheek, and the quick
+ lifting of Zeena’s head.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I want you should stay here this afternoon, Ethan,” his wife said.
+ “Jotham can drive Mattie over.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie flung an imploring glance at him, but he repeated curtly: “I’m
+ going to drive her over myself.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Zeena continued in the same even tone: “I wanted you should stay and fix
+ up that stove in Mattie’s room afore the girl gets here. It ain’t been
+ drawing right for nigh on a month now.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan’s voice rose indignantly. “If it was good enough for Mattie I guess
+ it’s good enough for a hired girl.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “That girl that’s coming told me she was used to a house where they had a
+ furnace,” Zeena persisted with the same monotonous mildness.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “She’d better ha’ stayed there then,” he flung back at her; and turning to
+ Mattie he added in a hard voice: “You be ready by three, Matt; I’ve got
+ business at Corbury.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Jotham Powell had started for the barn, and Ethan strode down after him
+ aflame with anger. The pulses in his temples throbbed and a fog was in his
+ eyes. He went about his task without knowing what force directed him, or
+ whose hands and feet were fulfilling its orders. It was not till he led
+ out the sorrel and backed him between the shafts of the sleigh that he
+ once more became conscious of what he was doing. As he passed the bridle
+ over the horse’s head, and wound the traces around the shafts, he
+ remembered the day when he had made the same preparations in order to
+ drive over and meet his wife’s cousin at the Flats. It was little more
+ than a year ago, on just such a soft afternoon, with a “feel” of spring in
+ the air. The sorrel, turning the same big ringed eye on him, nuzzled the
+ palm of his hand in the same way; and one by one all the days between rose
+ up and stood before him....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He flung the bearskin into the sleigh, climbed to the seat, and drove up
+ to the house. When he entered the kitchen it was empty, but Mattie’s bag
+ and shawl lay ready by the door. He went to the foot of the stairs and
+ listened. No sound reached him from above, but presently he thought he
+ heard some one moving about in his deserted study, and pushing open the
+ door he saw Mattie, in her hat and jacket, standing with her back to him
+ near the table.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She started at his approach and turning quickly, said: “Is it time?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “What are you doing here, Matt?” he asked her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She looked at him timidly. “I was just taking a look round—that’s
+ all,” she answered, with a wavering smile.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They went back into the kitchen without speaking, and Ethan picked up her
+ bag and shawl.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Where’s Zeena?” he asked.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “She went upstairs right after dinner. She said she had those shooting
+ pains again, and didn’t want to be disturbed.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Didn’t she say good-bye to you?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No. That was all she said.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan, looking slowly about the kitchen, said to himself with a shudder
+ that in a few hours he would be returning to it alone. Then the sense of
+ unreality overcame him once more, and he could not bring himself to
+ believe that Mattie stood there for the last time before him.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Come on,” he said almost gaily, opening the door and putting her bag into
+ the sleigh. He sprang to his seat and bent over to tuck the rug about her
+ as she slipped into the place at his side. “Now then, go ’long,” he said,
+ with a shake of the reins that sent the sorrel placidly jogging down the
+ hill.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “We got lots of time for a good ride, Matt!” he cried, seeking her hand
+ beneath the fur and pressing it in his. His face tingled and he felt
+ dizzy, as if he had stopped in at the Starkfield saloon on a zero day for
+ a drink.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ At the gate, instead of making for Starkfield, he turned the sorrel to the
+ right, up the Bettsbridge road. Mattie sat silent, giving no sign of
+ surprise; but after a moment she said: “Are you going round by Shadow
+ Pond?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He laughed and answered: “I knew you’d know!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She drew closer under the bearskin, so that, looking sideways around his
+ coat-sleeve, he could just catch the tip of her nose and a blown brown
+ wave of hair. They drove slowly up the road between fields glistening
+ under the pale sun, and then bent to the right down a lane edged with
+ spruce and larch. Ahead of them, a long way off, a range of hills stained
+ by mottlings of black forest flowed away in round white curves against the
+ sky. The lane passed into a pine-wood with boles reddening in the
+ afternoon sun and delicate blue shadows on the snow. As they entered it
+ the breeze fell and a warm stillness seemed to drop from the branches with
+ the dropping needles. Here the snow was so pure that the tiny tracks of
+ wood-animals had left on it intricate lace-like patterns, and the bluish
+ cones caught in its surface stood out like ornaments of bronze.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Ethan drove on in silence till they reached a part of the wood where the
+ pines were more widely spaced; then he drew up and helped Mattie to get
+ out of the sleigh. They passed between the aromatic trunks, the snow
+ breaking crisply under their feet, till they came to a small sheet of
+ water with steep wooded sides. Across its frozen surface, from the farther
+ bank, a single hill rising against the western sun threw the long conical
+ shadow which gave the lake its name. It was a shy secret spot, full of the
+ same dumb melancholy that Ethan felt in his heart.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He looked up and down the little pebbly beach till his eye lit on a fallen
+ tree-trunk half submerged in snow.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “There’s where we sat at the picnic,” he reminded her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The entertainment of which he spoke was one of the few that they had taken
+ part in together: a “church picnic” which, on a long afternoon of the
+ preceding summer, had filled the retired place with merry-making. Mattie
+ had begged him to go with her but he had refused. Then, toward sunset,
+ coming down from the mountain where he had been felling timber, he had
+ been caught by some strayed revellers and drawn into the group by the
+ lake, where Mattie, encircled by facetious youths, and bright as a
+ blackberry under her spreading hat, was brewing coffee over a gipsy fire.
+ He remembered the shyness he had felt at approaching her in his uncouth
+ clothes, and then the lighting up of her face, and the way she had broken
+ through the group to come to him with a cup in her hand. They had sat for
+ a few minutes on the fallen log by the pond, and she had missed her gold
+ locket, and set the young men searching for it; and it was Ethan who had
+ spied it in the moss.... That was all; but all their intercourse had been
+ made up of just such inarticulate flashes, when they seemed to come
+ suddenly upon happiness as if they had surprised a butterfly in the winter
+ woods....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “It was right there I found your locket,” he said, pushing his foot into a
+ dense tuft of blueberry bushes.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I never saw anybody with such sharp eyes!” she answered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She sat down on the tree-trunk in the sun and he sat down beside her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You were as pretty as a picture in that pink hat,” he said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She laughed with pleasure. “Oh, I guess it was the hat!” she rejoined.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They had never before avowed their inclination so openly, and Ethan, for a
+ moment, had the illusion that he was a free man, wooing the girl he meant
+ to marry. He looked at her hair and longed to touch it again, and to tell
+ her that it smelt of the woods; but he had never learned to say such
+ things.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Suddenly she rose to her feet and said: “We mustn’t stay here any longer.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He continued to gaze at her vaguely, only half-roused from his dream.
+ “There’s plenty of time,” he answered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They stood looking at each other as if the eyes of each were straining to
+ absorb and hold fast the other’s image. There were things he had to say to
+ her before they parted, but he could not say them in that place of summer
+ memories, and he turned and followed her in silence to the sleigh. As they
+ drove away the sun sank behind the hill and the pine-boles turned from red
+ to grey.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ By a devious track between the fields they wound back to the Starkfield
+ road. Under the open sky the light was still clear, with a reflection of
+ cold red on the eastern hills. The clumps of trees in the snow seemed to
+ draw together in ruffled lumps, like birds with their heads under their
+ wings; and the sky, as it paled, rose higher, leaving the earth more
+ alone.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As they turned into the Starkfield road Ethan said: “Matt, what do you
+ mean to do?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She did not answer at once, but at length she said: “I’ll try to get a
+ place in a store.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You know you can’t do it. The bad air and the standing all day nearly
+ killed you before.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’m a lot stronger than I was before I came to Starkfield.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “And now you’re going to throw away all the good it’s done you!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ There seemed to be no answer to this, and again they drove on for a while
+ without speaking. With every yard of the way some spot where they had
+ stood, and laughed together or been silent, clutched at Ethan and dragged
+ him back.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Isn’t there any of your father’s folks could help you?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “There isn’t any of ’em I’d ask.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He lowered his voice to say: “You know there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for
+ you if I could.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I know there isn’t.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “But I can’t—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She was silent, but he felt a slight tremor in the shoulder against his.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Matt,” he broke out, “if I could ha’ gone with you now I’d ha’ done
+ it—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She turned to him, pulling a scrap of paper from her breast. “Ethan—I
+ found this,” she stammered. Even in the failing light he saw it was the
+ letter to his wife that he had begun the night before and forgotten to
+ destroy. Through his astonishment there ran a fierce thrill of joy. “Matt—”
+ he cried; “if I could ha’ done it, would you?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Ethan, Ethan—what’s the use?” With a sudden movement she tore
+ the letter in shreds and sent them fluttering off into the snow.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Tell me, Matt! Tell me!” he adjured her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She was silent for a moment; then she said, in such a low tone that he had
+ to stoop his head to hear her: “I used to think of it sometimes, summer
+ nights when the moon was so bright. I couldn’t sleep.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ His heart reeled with the sweetness of it. “As long ago as that?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She answered, as if the date had long been fixed for her: “The first time
+ was at Shadow Pond.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Was that why you gave me my coffee before the others?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I don’t know. Did I? I was dreadfully put out when you wouldn’t go to the
+ picnic with me; and then, when I saw you coming down the road, I thought
+ maybe you’d gone home that way o’ purpose; and that made me glad.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They were silent again. They had reached the point where the road dipped
+ to the hollow by Ethan’s mill and as they descended the darkness descended
+ with them, dropping down like a black veil from the heavy hemlock boughs.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’m tied hand and foot, Matt. There isn’t a thing I can do,” he began
+ again.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You must write to me sometimes, Ethan.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, what good’ll writing do? I want to put my hand out and touch you. I
+ want to do for you and care for you. I want to be there when you’re sick
+ and when you’re lonesome.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You mustn’t think but what I’ll do all right.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You won’t need me, you mean? I suppose you’ll marry!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Ethan!” she cried.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I don’t know how it is you make me feel, Matt. I’d a’most rather have you
+ dead than that!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, I wish I was, I wish I was!” she sobbed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The sound of her weeping shook him out of his dark anger, and he felt
+ ashamed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Don’t let’s talk that way,” he whispered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why shouldn’t we, when it’s true? I’ve been wishing it every minute of
+ the day.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Matt! You be quiet! Don’t you say it.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “There’s never anybody been good to me but you.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Don’t say that either, when I can’t lift a hand for you!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Yes; but it’s true just the same.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They had reached the top of School House Hill and Starkfield lay below
+ them in the twilight. A cutter, mounting the road from the village, passed
+ them by in a joyous flutter of bells, and they straightened themselves and
+ looked ahead with rigid faces. Along the main street lights had begun to
+ shine from the house-fronts and stray figures were turning in here and
+ there at the gates. Ethan, with a touch of his whip, roused the sorrel to
+ a languid trot.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As they drew near the end of the village the cries of children reached
+ them, and they saw a knot of boys, with sleds behind them, scattering
+ across the open space before the church.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I guess this’ll be their last coast for a day or two,” Ethan said,
+ looking up at the mild sky.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mattie was silent, and he added: “We were to have gone down last night.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Still she did not speak and, prompted by an obscure desire to help himself
+ and her through their miserable last hour, he went on discursively: “Ain’t
+ it funny we haven’t been down together but just that once last winter?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She answered: “It wasn’t often I got down to the village.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “That’s so,” he said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They had reached the crest of the Corbury road, and between the indistinct
+ white glimmer of the church and the black curtain of the Varnum spruces
+ the slope stretched away below them without a sled on its length. Some
+ erratic impulse prompted Ethan to say: “How’d you like me to take you down
+ now?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She forced a laugh. “Why, there isn’t time!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “There’s all the time we want. Come along!” His one desire now was to
+ postpone the moment of turning the sorrel toward the Flats.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “But the girl,” she faltered. “The girl’ll be waiting at the station.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well, let her wait. You’d have to if she didn’t. Come!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The note of authority in his voice seemed to subdue her, and when he had
+ jumped from the sleigh she let him help her out, saying only, with a vague
+ feint of reluctance: “But there isn’t a sled round anywheres.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Yes, there is! Right over there under the spruces.” He threw the bearskin
+ over the sorrel, who stood passively by the roadside, hanging a meditative
+ head. Then he caught Mattie’s hand and drew her after him toward the sled.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She seated herself obediently and he took his place behind her, so close
+ that her hair brushed his face. “All right, Matt?” he called out, as if
+ the width of the road had been between them.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She turned her head to say: “It’s dreadfully dark. Are you sure you can
+ see?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He laughed contemptuously: “I could go down this coast with my eyes tied!”
+ and she laughed with him, as if she liked his audacity. Nevertheless he
+ sat still a moment, straining his eyes down the long hill, for it was the
+ most confusing hour of the evening, the hour when the last clearness from
+ the upper sky is merged with the rising night in a blur that disguises
+ landmarks and falsifies distances.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Now!” he cried.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The sled started with a bound, and they flew on through the dusk,
+ gathering smoothness and speed as they went, with the hollow night opening
+ out below them and the air singing by like an organ. Mattie sat perfectly
+ still, but as they reached the bend at the foot of the hill, where the big
+ elm thrust out a deadly elbow, he fancied that she shrank a little closer.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Don’t be scared, Matt!” he cried exultantly, as they spun safely past it
+ and flew down the second slope; and when they reached the level ground
+ beyond, and the speed of the sled began to slacken, he heard her give a
+ little laugh of glee.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They sprang off and started to walk back up the hill. Ethan dragged the
+ sled with one hand and passed the other through Mattie’s arm.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Were you scared I’d run you into the elm?” he asked with a boyish laugh.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I told you I was never scared with you,” she answered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The strange exaltation of his mood had brought on one of his rare fits of
+ boastfulness. “It <i>is</i> a tricky place, though. The least swerve, and we’d
+ never ha’ come up again. But I can measure distances to a
+ hair’s-breadth—always could.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She murmured: “I always say you’ve got the surest eye....”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Deep silence had fallen with the starless dusk, and they leaned on each
+ other without speaking; but at every step of their climb Ethan said to
+ himself: “It’s the last time we’ll ever walk together.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They mounted slowly to the top of the hill. When they were abreast of the
+ church he stooped his head to her to ask: “Are you tired?” and she
+ answered, breathing quickly: “It was splendid!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ With a pressure of his arm he guided her toward the Norway spruces. “I
+ guess this sled must be Ned Hale’s. Anyhow I’ll leave it where I found
+ it.” He drew the sled up to the Varnum gate and rested it against the
+ fence. As he raised himself he suddenly felt Mattie close to him among the
+ shadows.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Is this where Ned and Ruth kissed each other?” she whispered
+ breathlessly, and flung her arms about him. Her lips, groping for his,
+ swept over his face, and he held her fast in a rapture of surprise.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Good-bye-good-bye,” she stammered, and kissed him again.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Matt, I can’t let you go!” broke from him in the same old cry.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She freed herself from his hold and he heard her sobbing. “Oh, I can’t go
+ either!” she wailed.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Matt! What’ll we do? What’ll we do?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They clung to each other’s hands like children, and her body shook with
+ desperate sobs.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Through the stillness they heard the church clock striking five.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Ethan, it’s time!” she cried.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He drew her back to him. “Time for what? You don’t suppose I’m going to
+ leave you now?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “If I missed my train where’d I go?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Where are you going if you catch it?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She stood silent, her hands lying cold and relaxed in his.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “What’s the good of either of us going anywheres without the other one
+ now?” he said.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She remained motionless, as if she had not heard him. Then she snatched
+ her hands from his, threw her arms about his neck, and pressed a sudden
+ drenched cheek against his face. “Ethan! Ethan! I want you to take me down
+ again!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Down where?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “The coast. Right off,” she panted. “So ’t we’ll never come up any more.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Matt! What on earth do you mean?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She put her lips close against his ear to say: “Right into the big elm.
+ You said you could. So ’t we’d never have to leave each other any more.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why, what are you talking of? You’re crazy!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I’m not crazy; but I will be if I leave you.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Matt, Matt—” he groaned.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She tightened her fierce hold about his neck. Her face lay close to his
+ face.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Ethan, where’ll I go if I leave you? I don’t know how to get along alone.
+ You said so yourself just now. Nobody but you was ever good to me. And
+ there’ll be that strange girl in the house... and she’ll sleep in my bed,
+ where I used to lay nights and listen to hear you come up the stairs....”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The words were like fragments torn from his heart. With them came the
+ hated vision of the house he was going back to—of the stairs he
+ would have to go up every night, of the woman who would wait for him
+ there. And the sweetness of Mattie’s avowal, the wild wonder of knowing at
+ last that all that had happened to him had happened to her too, made the
+ other vision more abhorrent, the other life more intolerable to return
+ to....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her pleadings still came to him between short sobs, but he no longer heard
+ what she was saying. Her hat had slipped back and he was stroking her
+ hair. He wanted to get the feeling of it into his hand, so that it would
+ sleep there like a seed in winter. Once he found her mouth again, and they
+ seemed to be by the pond together in the burning August sun. But his cheek
+ touched hers, and it was cold and full of weeping, and he saw the road to
+ the Flats under the night and heard the whistle of the train up the line.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The spruces swathed them in blackness and silence. They might have been in
+ their coffins underground. He said to himself: “Perhaps it’ll feel like
+ this ...” and then again: “After this I sha’n’t feel anything....”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Suddenly he heard the old sorrel whinny across the road, and thought:
+ “He’s wondering why he doesn’t get his supper....”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Come!” Mattie whispered, tugging at his hand.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her sombre violence constrained him: she seemed the embodied instrument of
+ fate. He pulled the sled out, blinking like a night-bird as he passed from
+ the shade of the spruces into the transparent dusk of the open. The slope
+ below them was deserted. All Starkfield was at supper, and not a figure
+ crossed the open space before the church. The sky, swollen with the clouds
+ that announce a thaw, hung as low as before a summer storm. He strained
+ his eyes through the dimness, and they seemed less keen, less capable than
+ usual.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He took his seat on the sled and Mattie instantly placed herself in front
+ of him. Her hat had fallen into the snow and his lips were in her hair. He
+ stretched out his legs, drove his heels into the road to keep the sled
+ from slipping forward, and bent her head back between his hands. Then
+ suddenly he sprang up again.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Get up,” he ordered her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ It was the tone she always heeded, but she cowered down in her seat,
+ repeating vehemently: “No, no, no!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Get up!”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Why?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I want to sit in front.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “No, no! How can you steer in front?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I don’t have to. We’ll follow the track.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ They spoke in smothered whispers, as though the night were listening.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Get up! Get up!” he urged her; but she kept on repeating: “Why do you
+ want to sit in front?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Because I—because I want to feel you holding me,” he stammered, and
+ dragged her to her feet.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The answer seemed to satisfy her, or else she yielded to the power of his
+ voice. He bent down, feeling in the obscurity for the glassy slide worn by
+ preceding coasters, and placed the runners carefully between its edges.
+ She waited while he seated himself with crossed legs in the front of the
+ sled; then she crouched quickly down at his back and clasped her arms
+ about him. Her breath in his neck set him shuddering again, and he almost
+ sprang from his seat. But in a flash he remembered the alternative. She
+ was right: this was better than parting. He leaned back and drew her mouth
+ to his....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Just as they started he heard the sorrel’s whinny again, and the familiar
+ wistful call, and all the confused images it brought with it, went with
+ him down the first reach of the road. Half-way down there was a sudden
+ drop, then a rise, and after that another long delirious descent. As they
+ took wing for this it seemed to him that they were flying indeed, flying
+ far up into the cloudy night, with Starkfield immeasurably below them,
+ falling away like a speck in space.... Then the big elm shot up ahead,
+ lying in wait for them at the bend of the road, and he said between his
+ teeth: “We can fetch it; I know we can fetch it—”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ As they flew toward the tree Mattie pressed her arms tighter, and her
+ blood seemed to be in his veins. Once or twice the sled swerved a little
+ under them. He slanted his body to keep it headed for the elm, repeating
+ to himself again and again: “I know we can fetch it”; and little phrases
+ she had spoken ran through his head and danced before him on the air. The
+ big tree loomed bigger and closer, and as they bore down on it he thought:
+ “It’s waiting for us: it seems to know.” But suddenly his wife’s face,
+ with twisted monstrous lineaments, thrust itself between him and his goal,
+ and he made an instinctive movement to brush it aside. The sled swerved in
+ response, but he righted it again, kept it straight, and drove down on the
+ black projecting mass. There was a last instant when the air shot past him
+ like millions of fiery wires; and then the elm....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The sky was still thick, but looking straight up he saw a single star, and
+ tried vaguely to reckon whether it were Sirius, or—or—The
+ effort tired him too much, and he closed his heavy lids and thought that
+ he would sleep.... The stillness was so profound that he heard a little
+ animal twittering somewhere near by under the snow. It made a small
+ frightened <i>cheep</i> like a field mouse, and he wondered languidly if it were
+ hurt. Then he understood that it must be in pain: pain so excruciating
+ that he seemed, mysteriously, to feel it shooting through his own body. He
+ tried in vain to roll over in the direction of the sound, and stretched
+ his left arm out across the snow. And now it was as though he felt rather
+ than heard the twittering; it seemed to be under his palm, which rested on
+ something soft and springy. The thought of the animal’s suffering was
+ intolerable to him and he struggled to raise himself, and could not
+ because a rock, or some huge mass, seemed to be lying on him. But he
+ continued to finger about cautiously with his left hand, thinking he might
+ get hold of the little creature and help it; and all at once he knew that
+ the soft thing he had touched was Mattie’s hair and that his hand was on
+ her face.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He dragged himself to his knees, the monstrous load on him moving with him
+ as he moved, and his hand went over and over her face, and he felt that
+ the twittering came from her lips....
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ He got his face down close to hers, with his ear to her mouth, and in the
+ darkness he saw her eyes open and heard her say his name.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Oh, Matt, I thought we’d fetched it,” he moaned; and far off, up the
+ hill, he heard the sorrel whinny, and thought: “I ought to be getting him
+ his feed....”
+ </p>
+ <hr>
+ <p>
+ THE QUERULOUS DRONE ceased as I entered Frome’s kitchen, and of the two
+ women sitting there I could not tell which had been the speaker.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ One of them, on my appearing, raised her tall bony figure from her seat,
+ not as if to welcome me—for she threw me no more than a brief glance
+ of surprise—but simply to set about preparing the meal which Frome’s
+ absence had delayed. A slatternly calico wrapper hung from her shoulders
+ and the wisps of her thin grey hair were drawn away from a high forehead
+ and fastened at the back by a broken comb. She had pale opaque eyes which
+ revealed nothing and reflected nothing, and her narrow lips were of the
+ same sallow colour as her face.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The other woman was much smaller and slighter. She sat huddled in an
+ arm-chair near the stove, and when I came in she turned her head quickly
+ toward me, without the least corresponding movement of her body. Her hair
+ was as grey as her companion’s, her face as bloodless and shrivelled, but
+ amber-tinted, with swarthy shadows sharpening the nose and hollowing the
+ temples. Under her shapeless dress her body kept its limp immobility, and
+ her dark eyes had the bright witch-like stare that disease of the spine
+ sometimes gives.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Even for that part of the country the kitchen was a poor-looking place.
+ With the exception of the dark-eyed woman’s chair, which looked like a
+ soiled relic of luxury bought at a country auction, the furniture was of
+ the roughest kind. Three coarse china plates and a broken-nosed milk-jug
+ had been set on a greasy table scored with knife-cuts, and a couple of
+ straw-bottomed chairs and a kitchen dresser of unpainted pine stood
+ meagrely against the plaster walls.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “My, it’s cold here! The fire must be ’most out,” Frome said, glancing
+ about him apologetically as he followed me in.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ The tall woman, who had moved away from us toward the dresser, took no
+ notice; but the other, from her cushioned niche, answered complainingly,
+ in a high thin voice. “It’s on’y just been made up this very minute. Zeena
+ fell asleep and slep’ ever so long, and I thought I’d be frozen stiff
+ before I could wake her up and get her to ’tend to it.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I knew then that it was she who had been speaking when we entered.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Her companion, who was just coming back to the table with the remains of a
+ cold mince-pie in a battered pie-dish, set down her unappetising burden
+ without appearing to hear the accusation brought against her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Frome stood hesitatingly before her as she advanced; then he looked at me
+ and said: “This is my wife, Mis’ Frome.” After another interval he added,
+ turning toward the figure in the arm-chair: “And this is Miss Mattie
+ Silver....”
+ </p>
+ <hr>
+ <p>
+ Mrs. Hale, tender soul, had pictured me as lost in the Flats and buried
+ under a snow-drift; and so lively was her satisfaction on seeing me safely
+ restored to her the next morning that I felt my peril had caused me to
+ advance several degrees in her favour.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Great was her amazement, and that of old Mrs. Varnum, on learning that
+ Ethan Frome’s old horse had carried me to and from Corbury Junction
+ through the worst blizzard of the winter; greater still their surprise
+ when they heard that his master had taken me in for the night.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Beneath their wondering exclamations I felt a secret curiosity to know
+ what impressions I had received from my night in the Frome household, and
+ divined that the best way of breaking down their reserve was to let them
+ try to penetrate mine. I therefore confined myself to saying, in a
+ matter-of-fact tone, that I had been received with great kindness, and
+ that Frome had made a bed for me in a room on the ground-floor which
+ seemed in happier days to have been fitted up as a kind of writing-room or
+ study.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Well,” Mrs. Hale mused, “in such a storm I suppose he felt he couldn’t do
+ less than take you in—but I guess it went hard with Ethan. I don’t
+ believe but what you’re the only stranger has set foot in that house for
+ over twenty years. He’s that proud he don’t even like his oldest friends
+ to go there; and I don’t know as any do, any more, except myself and the
+ doctor....”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “You still go there, Mrs. Hale?” I ventured.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “I used to go a good deal after the accident, when I was first married;
+ but after awhile I got to think it made ’em feel worse to see us. And then
+ one thing and another came, and my own troubles.... But I generally make
+ out to drive over there round about New Year’s, and once in the summer.
+ Only I always try to pick a day when Ethan’s off somewheres. It’s bad
+ enough to see the two women sitting there—but <i>his</i> face, when he
+ looks round that bare place, just kills me.... You see, I can look back and
+ call it up in his mother’s day, before their troubles.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Old Mrs. Varnum, by this time, had gone up to bed, and her daughter and I
+ were sitting alone, after supper, in the austere seclusion of the
+ horse-hair parlour. Mrs. Hale glanced at me tentatively, as though trying
+ to see how much footing my conjectures gave her; and I guessed that if she
+ had kept silence till now it was because she had been waiting, through all
+ the years, for some one who should see what she alone had seen.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ I waited to let her trust in me gather strength before I said: “Yes, it’s
+ pretty bad, seeing all three of them there together.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She drew her mild brows into a frown of pain. “It was just awful from the
+ beginning. I was here in the house when they were carried up—they
+ laid Mattie Silver in the room you’re in. She and I were great friends,
+ and she was to have been my bridesmaid in the spring.... When she came to I
+ went up to her and stayed all night. They gave her things to quiet her,
+ and she didn’t know much till to’rd morning, and then all of a sudden she
+ woke up just like herself, and looked straight at me out of her big eyes,
+ and said.... Oh, I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,” Mrs. Hale
+ broke off, crying.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She took off her spectacles, wiped the moisture from them, and put them on
+ again with an unsteady hand. “It got about the next day,” she went on,
+ “that Zeena Frome had sent Mattie off in a hurry because she had a hired
+ girl coming, and the folks here could never rightly tell what she and
+ Ethan were doing that night coasting, when they’d ought to have been on
+ their way to the Flats to ketch the train.... I never knew myself what
+ Zeena thought—I don’t to this day. Nobody knows Zeena’s thoughts.
+ Anyhow, when she heard o’ the accident she came right in and stayed with
+ Ethan over to the minister’s, where they’d carried him. And as soon as the
+ doctors said that Mattie could be moved, Zeena sent for her and took her
+ back to the farm.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “And there she’s been ever since?”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mrs. Hale answered simply: “There was nowhere else for her to go”; and my
+ heart tightened at the thought of the hard compulsions of the poor.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Yes, there she’s been,” Mrs. Hale continued, “and Zeena’s done for her,
+ and done for Ethan, as good as she could. It was a miracle, considering
+ how sick she was—but she seemed to be raised right up just when the
+ call came to her. Not as she’s ever given up doctoring, and she’s had sick
+ spells right along; but she’s had the strength given her to care for those
+ two for over twenty years, and before the accident came she thought she
+ couldn’t even care for herself.”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mrs. Hale paused a moment, and I remained silent, plunged in the vision of
+ what her words evoked. “It’s horrible for them all,” I murmured.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ “Yes: it’s pretty bad. And they ain’t any of ’em easy people either.
+ Mattie <i>was</i>, before the accident; I never knew a sweeter nature. But she’s
+ suffered too much—that’s what I always say when folks tell me how
+ she’s soured. And Zeena, she was always cranky. Not but what she bears
+ with Mattie wonderful—I’ve seen that myself. But sometimes the two
+ of them get going at each other, and then Ethan’s face’d break your
+ heart.... When I see that, I think it’s <i>him</i> that suffers most... anyhow it
+ ain’t Zeena, because she ain’t got the time.... It’s a pity, though,” Mrs.
+ Hale ended, sighing, “that they’re all shut up there’n that one kitchen.
+ In the summertime, on pleasant days, they move Mattie into the parlour, or
+ out in the door-yard, and that makes it easier... but winters there’s the
+ fires to be thought of; and there ain’t a dime to spare up at the
+ Fromes.’”
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ Mrs. Hale drew a deep breath, as though her memory were eased of its long
+ burden, and she had no more to say; but suddenly an impulse of complete
+ avowal seized her.
+ </p>
+ <p>
+ She took off her spectacles again, leaned toward me across the bead-work
+ table-cover, and went on with lowered voice: “There was one day, about a
+ week after the accident, when they all thought Mattie couldn’t live. Well,
+ I say it’s a pity she <i>did</i>. I said it right out to our minister once, and
+ he was shocked at me. Only he wasn’t with me that morning when she first
+ came to.... And I say, if she’d ha’ died, Ethan might ha’ lived; and the
+ way they are now, I don’t see’s there’s much difference between the Fromes
+ up at the farm and the Fromes down in the graveyard; ’cept that down there
+ they’re all quiet, and the women have got to hold their tongues.”
+ </p>
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 4517 ***</div>
+ </body>
+</html>
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