Chapter 3

“Of course,” I said stupidly. I wanted to go upstairs and pinch myself
for being so horrid and suspicious. Just then John and Hester came in
and soon after we went home.

“Come and see me again soon, dear Hester,” said Mrs. Douglas lovingly.
“You don’t come half-often enough. But then I suppose John will be
bringing you here to stay all the time one of these days.”

I happened to glance at John when his mother said this and I am positive
I jumped. I have known ever since just exactly what a man looked like
when they gave the rack the last turn of possible endurance. I thought
he must be ill and I hurried poor blushing Hester away.

“Isn’t old Mrs. Douglas a sweet woman?” said Hester as we went down the
lane.

“H—m,” I said. It is a very useful thing to say at times.

“She’s been a terrible sufferer,” said Hester feelingly. “She takes
terrible spells. It keeps John all worried up. He’s scared to leave home
for fear his mother will take a spell and nobody but the hired girl
there. Sometimes I’ve thought . . . .”

Here Hester stopped short. I didn’t ask her what she thought. It is one
of my few merits that I let people stop when I see they want to.

Three days later I found Hester crying.

Tears and Hester seemed so incongruous that I was thoroughly scared.

“Oh, what is the matter?” I cried anxiously.

“I’m forty to-day,” sobbed Hester.

I didn’t laugh. I thought being forty might be a good reason for crying.
While I was casting about for something comforting to say Hester added
with a big gulp:

“And—and—John Douglas won’t ask me to marry him.”

Here was tragedy with a vengeance! I tried lamely to cheer and
encourage.

“Oh, but he will,” I said soothingly. “You must give him time, Hester.
Perhaps . . . .”

“Time!” said Hester with indescribable scorn. “He has had twenty years.
How much time does he want?”

Twenty years! I felt dizzy.

“Do you mean to say that John Douglas has been coming to see you for
twenty years?” I gasped.

“He has,” said Hester, “and he has never so much as mentioned marriage
to me. And I don’t believe now that he ever will.”

“Tell me all about it, Hester,” I implored.

I thought it better for her to talk than cry. Besides, I was eaten up
with curiosity.

“I believe I will,” said Hester, wiping her eyes. “I’ve never said a
word to a mortal about it, but it seems to me that I’ve got to talk it
over with someone at last or bust. Not that there’s much to tell.

“John Douglas began to go with me twenty years ago; it was before mother
died. I was real pleased, for he was the likeliest young man for miles
around. Well, he kept coming and coming and after a spell I began making
quilts and things. But he never said anything about getting married and
just kept coming and coming. There weren’t nothing I could do . . . .”

“Why didn’t you give him some hints—strong hints?” I interrupted.

“Hints! I’ve given him hints strong enough to stand alone. I’ve done
most everything short of popping the question myself. But he never paid
no more attention to them than if he had been deaf. Mother died when we
had been going together for eight years. I thought then maybe he would
speak up, seeing as I was left all alone in the world. He was real kind
and feeling and did everything he could for me, but he never said marry.
And that’s the way it’s been going on ever since.

“People blame me for it. They say I won’t marry him because his mother
is so sickly and I don’t want the bother of waiting on her. Why, I’d
love to wait on John’s mother! But I let them think so. I’d rather
they’d blame me than have them know I don’t marry John because he won’t
ask me. That is so dreadful humiliating. But why doesn’t he ask me to?
Seems to me if I only knew his reason I wouldn’t mind it so much.”

“Perhaps his mother doesn’t want him to marry anybody,” I said slowly.

“Oh, she does. She’s told me time and time again she’d love to see John
settled before her time comes. She’s always giving him hints—you heard
her the other day. I thought I should have dropped through the floor.”

“It’s beyond me,” I said helplessly.

And it was. Then I grew angry.

“You should have more spirit, Hester. Why didn’t you throw him over long
ago?”

“I couldn’t,” said poor Hester, pathetically. “You see, Sally, I’ve
always been awful fond of John. He might just as well keep coming as
not, for there never was anybody else I wanted to come, so it didn’t
matter.”

“But it might have made him speak out like a man,” I cried.

Hester shook her head.

“No, I guess not. I was afraid to try, anyway, for fear he’d think I
really meant it and just go. I suppose I’m a poor sperrited creature but
that is how I feel. And I can’t help it.”

“Oh, you could help it, Hester,” I urged. “It isn’t too late yet. Take a
firm stand. There are a dozen ways you can let John Douglas know that
you are not going to put up with his shilly-shallying any longer. I’ll
back you up.”

“I dunno’,” said Hester, hopelessly. “I dunno’ if I could get up enough
spunk. Things have drifted so long. But I’ll think it over. I must go
and make some biscuit now. I’m an old fool to be sitting here crying at
my age. But I wouldn’t mind so much if I only knew his reason.”

“Perhaps it’s just because he’s too shy,” I said.

But I didn’t believe it or Hester either; John Douglas was not at all
shy.

Really, I felt disappointed in him. I would never have thought he was
the sort of man to play fast and loose with a woman’s feelings for
twenty years. He certainly ought to be taught a lesson, and I felt that
I would have enjoyed being the teacher. I beamed with delight when, just
as we were starting for prayer-meeting the next night, Hester informed
me that she meant to take my advice and show some “sperrit.”

“When John Douglas asks me to-night if he can see me home, I’m just
going to tell him he can’t,” she said. “I’m not going to be trodden on
any longer.”

I told Hester she was right, and all through prayer-meeting I looked at
John Douglas with a stony, exultant glare in my eyes.

“My good man,” I was thinking joyfully, “you are going to get the snub
you deserve to-night.”

* * * * *

It was moonlight again—bright as day. As we stepped over the grass up
came John Douglas and asked Hester if he might see her home.

Hester looked frightened but resolute.

“No, thank you,” she said icily. “I know the road home pretty well
alone. I ought to, seeing as I’ve been traveling it for some forty
years. So you needn’t trouble yourself, Mr. Douglas.”