“She didnt begin to age until two or three years ago, did she?” asked Mrs. Crowe. “I never saw anybody keep her looks as Tempy did. She looked young long after I begun to feel like an old woman. The doctor used to sayitwas her young heart, and I dont know but what he was right. How she did do for other folks! There was one spell she wasnt at home a day to a fortnight. She got most of her livin so, and that made her own potatoes and things last her through. None of the young folks could get married without her, and all the old ones was disap-pointed if she want round when they was down with sickness-and had to go. An cleanin, or tailorin for boys, or rug-hookin, there was nothin but what she could do as handy as most. I do love to work, – aint you heard her say that twenty times a week?”
Sarah Ann Binson nodded, and began to clear away the empty plates. “We may want a taste o somethin more towards mornin,” she said. “There` plenty in the closet here; and in case some comes from a distance to the funeral, well have a little table spread after we get back to the house.”
“Yes, I was busy all the mornin. Ive cooked up a sight of things to bring over,” said Mrs. Crowe. “I felt twas the last I could do for her.”
They drew their chairs near the stove again, and took up their work. Sister Binson` rocking-chair creaked as she rocked; the brook sounded louder than ever. It was more lonely when nobody spoke, and presently Mrs. Crowe returned to her thoughts of growing old.
“Yes, Tempy aged all of a sudden. I remember I asked her if she felt as well as common, one day, and she laughed at me good. There, when Mr. Crowe begun to look old, I couldnt help feeling as if somethin ailed him, and like as not twas somethin he was goin to git right over, and I dosed him for it stiddy, half of one summer.”
“How many things we shall be wanting to ask Tempy!” exclaimed Sarah Ann Binson, after a long pause. “I cant make up my mind to doin without her. I wish folks could come back just once, and tell us how tis where theyve gone. Seems then we could do without em better.”
Compassionately
The brook hurried on, the wind blew about the house now and then; the house itself was a silent place, and the supper, the warm fire, and an absence of any new topics for conversation made the watchers drowsy. Sister Binson closed her eyes first, to rest them for a minute; and Mrs. Crowe glanced at her compassionately, with a new sympathy for the hard-worked little woman. She made up her mind to let Sarah Ann have a good rest, while she kept watch alone; but in a few minutes her own knitting was dropped, and she, too, fell asleep. Overhead, the pale shape of Tempy Dent, the outworn body of that generous, loving- hearted, simple soul, slept on also in its white raiment. Perhaps Tempy herself stood near, and saw her own life and its surroundings with new understanding. Perhaps she herself was the only watcher.
Later, by some hours, Sarah Ann Binson woke with a start. There was a pale light of dawn outside the small windows. Inside the kitchen, the lamp burned dim. Mrs. Crowe awoke, too.
“I think Tempyd be the first to say twas just as well we both had some rest,” she said, not without a guilty feeling.
Her companion went to the outer door, and opened it wide. The fresh air was none too cold, and the brook` voice was not nearly so loud as it had been in the midnight darkness. She could see the shapes of the hills, and the great shadows that lay across the lower country. The east was fast growing bright.
“Twill be a beautiful day for the funeral,” she said, and turned again, with a sigh, to follow Mrs. Crowe up the stairs.
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