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Page 20
"Let me see." Asenath considered gravely. "There was one small boy
making faces, and two--no, three--dogs, I believe; that was all."
"Oh!"
Del looked relieved, but fell silent.
"You're sober, Del. Been sending off a lover, as usual?"
"I don't know anything about its being usual," answered Del, in an
aggrieved, coquettish way, "but there's been somebody here that liked me
well enough."
"You like him, maybe? It's time you liked somebody, Del."
Del curled the red feather about her fingers, and put her hat on over
her eyes, then a little cry broke from her, half sob, half anger.
"I might, perhaps,--I don't know. He's good. I think he'd let me have a
parlor and a door-bell. But he's going to marry somebody else, you see.
I sha'n't tell you his name, so you needn't ask."
Asenath looked out straight upon the water. A dead leaf that had been
caught in an eddy attracted her attention; it tossed about for a minute,
then a tiny whirlpool sucked it down.
"I wasn't going to ask; it's nothing to me, of course. He doesn't care
for her then,--this other girl?"
"Not so much as he does for me. He didn't mean to tell me, but he said
that I--that I looked so--pretty, it came right out. But there! I
mustn't tell you any more."
Del began to be frightened; she looked up sideways at Asenath's quiet
face. "I won't say another word," and so chattered on, growing a little
cross; Asenath need not look so still, and sure of herself,--a mere
humpbacked fright!
"He'll never break his engagement, not even for me; he's sorry for her,
and all that. I think it's too bad. He's handsome. He makes me feel like
saying my prayers, too, he's so good! Besides, I want to be married. I
hate the mill. I hate to work. I'd rather be taken care of,--a sight
rather. I feel bad enough about it to cry."
Two tears rolled over her cheeks, and fell on the soft plaid shawl. Del
wiped them away carefully with her rounded fingers.
Asenath turned and looked at this Del Ivory long and steadily through
the dusk. The pretty, shallow thing! The worthless, bewildering thing!
A fierce contempt for her pink-and-white, and tears and eyelashes and
attitudes, came upon her; then a sudden sickening jealousy that turned
her faint where she sat.
What did God mean,--Asenath believed in God, having so little else to
believe in,--what did he mean, when he had blessed the girl all her
happy life with such wealth of beauty, by filling her careless hands
with this one best, last gift? Why, the child could not hold such golden
love! She would throw it away by and by. What a waste it was!
Not that she had these words for her thought, but she had the thought
distinctly through her dizzy pain.
"So there's nothing to do about it," said Del, pinning her shawl. "We
can't have anything to say to each other,--unless anybody should die, or
anything; and of course I'm not wicked enough to think of _that._--Sene!
Sene! what are you doing?"
Sene had risen slowly, stood upon the log, caught at an aspen-top, and
swung out with it its whole length above the water. The slight tree
writhed and quivered about the roots. Sene looked down and moved her
marred lips without sound.
Del screamed and wrung her hands. It was an ugly sight!
"O don't, Sene, _don't!_ You'll drown yourself! you will be drowned! you
will be--O, what a start you gave me! What _were_ you doing, Senath
Martyn?"
Sene swung slowly back, and sat down.
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