Chapter III

by Kate Douglas Wiggin

　　IIILetitia Boynton's life had been rather a drab one as seen throughother people's eyes, but it had never seemed so to her till within thelast few years. Her own father had been the village doctor, but of himshe had no memory. Her mother's second marriage to a venerable countrylawyer, John Gilman, had brought a kindly, inefficient stepfather intothe family, a man who speedily became an invalid needing constantnursing. The birth of David when Letty was three years old, brought anew interest into the household, and the two children grew to be fastfriends; but when Mrs. Gilman died, and Letty found herself ateighteen the mistress of the house, the nurse of her aged stepfather,and the only guardian of a boy of fifteen, life became difficult. Moredifficult still it became when the old lawyer died, for he at leasthad been a sort of fictitious head of the family and his mereexistence kept David within bounds.

　　David was a lively, harum-scarum, handsome youth, good at his lessons,popular with his companions, always in a scrape, into which he wasgenerally drawn by the minister's son, so the neighbors thought. Atany rate, Dick Larrabee, as David's senior, received the lion's shareof the blame when mischief was abroad. If Parson Larrabee's boycouldn't behave any better than an unbelieving black-smith's, aMethodist farmer's, or a Baptist storekeeper's, what was the use ofclaiming superior efficacy for the Congregational form of belief?

　　"Dick's father's never succeeded in bringing him into the church,though he's worked on him from the time he was knee-high to a toad,"said Mrs. Popham.

　　"P'raps his mother kind o' vaccinated him with religion 'stid o'leavin' him to take it the natural way, as the ol' sayin' is," was herhusband's response. "The first Mis' Larrabee was as good as gold, butshe may have overdone the trick a little mite, mebbe; and what's more,I kind o' suspicion the parson thinks so himself. He ain't never beenquite the same sence Dick left home, 'cept in preaching'; an' I tellyou, Maria, his high-water mark there is higher 'n ever. Abel Dunn o'Boston walked home from meetin' with me Thanksgivin', an', says he,takin' off his hat an' moppin' his forehead, 'Osh,' says he, 'doesyour minister preach like that every Sunday?' 'No,' says I, 'he don't.If he did we couldn't stan' it! He preaches like that about once amonth, an' we don't care what he says the rest o' the time.'"

　　"Well, so far as boys are concerned, preachin' ain't so reliable, forbehavin' purposes, as a good young alder switch," was the opinion ofMrs. Popham, her children being of the comatose kind, whose minds hadnever been illuminated by the dazzling idea of disobedience.

　　"Land sakes, Maria! There ain't alders enough on the river-bank toswitch religion into a boy like Dick Larrabee. It's got to come likea thief in the night, as the ol' sayin' is, but I guess I don't meanthief, I guess I mean star: it's got to come kind o' like a star in adark night. If the whole village, 'generate an' onregenerate, hadn't'a' kep' on naggin' an' hectorin' an' criticizin' them two boys, Dickan' Dave,—carryin' tales an' multiplyin' of 'em by two, 'ong root'as the ol' sayin' is,—I dare say they'd 'a' both been here yet; 'stido' roamin' roun' the earth seekin' whom they may devour."

　　There was considerable truth in Ossian Popham's remark, as Letty couldhave testified; for the conduct of the Boynton-Gilman household, aswell as that of the minister, had been continually under inspectionand discussion.

　　Nothing could remain long hidden in Beulah. Nobody spied, nobodypried, nobody listened at doors or windows, nobody owned a microscope,nobody took any particular notice of events, or if they did theypreserved an attitude of profound indifference while doing it,—yeteverything was known sooner or later. The amount of the fish and meatbill, the precise extent of credit, the number of letters in the post,the amount of fuel burned, the number of absences from church andprayer-meeting, the calls or visits made and received, the hours ofarrival or departure, the source of all incomes,—these details werethe common property of the village. It even took cognizance of moresubtle things; for it observed and recorded the fluctuations of alllove affairs, and the fluctuations also in the religious experiencesof various persons not always in spiritual equilibrium; for the soulwas an object of scrutiny in Beulah, as well as mind, body, andestate.

　　Letty Boynton used to feel that nothing was exclusively her own; thatshe belonged to Beulah part and parcel; but Dick Larrabee was far morerestive under the village espionage than were she and David.

　　It was natural that David should want to leave Beulah and make his wayin the world, and his sister did not oppose it. Dick's circumstanceswere different. He had inherited a small house and farm from hismother, had enjoyed a college education, and had been offered a sharein a good business in a city twelve miles away. He left Beulah becausehe hated it. He left because he could not endure his father's gentleremonstrances or the bewilderment in his stepmother's eyes. She was anewcomer in the household and her glance seemed to say: "Why on earthdo you behave so badly to your father when you're such a delightfulchap?" He left because Deacon Todd had prayed for him publicly at aChristian Endeavor meeting; because Mrs. Popham had circulated awholly baseless scandal about him; and finally because in his youngmisery the only being who could have comforted him by joining herhapless fortunes to his had refused to do so. He didn't know why. Hehad always counted on Letty when the time should come to speak theword. He had shown his heart in everything but words; what more did agirl want? Of course, if any one preferred a purely fantastic duty toa man's love, and allowed a scapegrace brother to foist two red-faced,squalling babies on her, there was nothing to be said. So, in thisframe of mind he had had one flaming, passionate, wrong-headed scenewith his father, and strode out of Beulah with dramatic gestures ofshaking its dust off his feet. His father, roused for once from hislifelong patience, had been rather terrible in that last scene; soterrible that he had never forgiven himself, or really believedhimself fully forgiven by God, though his son had alienated half thevillage and nearly rent the parish in twain by his conduct.

　　As for Letty, she held her peace. She could only hope that theminister and his wife suspected nothing, and she was sure of Beulah'spoint of view. That a girl would never give up a suitor, if she hadany hope of tying him to her for life, was a popular form of belief inthe community; and strangely enough it was chiefly the women, not themen, who made it current. Now and then a soft-hearted and chivalrousmale would observe indulgently of some village beauty, "I shouldn'twonder a mite if she could 'a' had Bill for the askin'"; but thisopinion would be met by such a chorus of feminine incredulity that itsauthor generally withdrew it as unsound and untenable.

　　It was then, when Dick had gone away, that the days had grown drab andlong, but the twins kept Letty's inexperienced hands busy, though inthe first year she had the help of old Miss Clarissa Perry, achildless expert in the bringing-up of babies.

　　The friendship of Reba Larrabee, so bright and cheery andcomprehending, was a never-ending solace. There was nothing of themartyr about Letty. She was not wholly resigned to her lot, and totell the truth she did not intend to be, for a good many years yet.

　　"I'm not a minister, but I'm the wife of a minister, which is the nextbest thing," Mrs. Larrabee used to say. "I tell you, Letty, there's nouse in human creatures being resigned till their bodies are fairlyworn out with fighting. When you can't think of another mortal thingto do, be resigned; but I'm convinced that the Lord is ashamed of uswhen we fold our hands too soon!"

　　"You were born courageous, Reba!" And Letty would look admiringly atthe rosy cheeks and bright eyes of her friend.

　　"My blood circulates freely; that helps me a lot. Everybody's bloodcirculates in Racine, Wisconsin."—And the minister's wife laughedgenially. "Yours, hereabouts, freezes up in your six months of coldweather, and when it begins to thaw out the snow is ready to fallagain. That sort of thing induces depression, although no mere climatewould account for Mrs. Popham.—Ossian said to Luther the other day:'Maria ain't hardly to blame, parson. She come from a gloomy stock.The Ladds was all gloomy, root and branch. They say that the Laddbabies was always discouraged two days after they was born.'"

　　The cause of Letty's chief heartache, the one that she could reveal tonobody, was that her brother should leave her nowadays so completelyto her own resources. She recalled the time when he came home fromBoston, pale, haggard, ashamed, and told her of his marriage, monthsbefore. She could read in his lack-lustre eyes, and hear in hisvoice, the absence of love, the fear of the future. That was badenough, but presently he said: "Letty, there's more to tell. I've nomoney, and no place to put my wife, but there's a child coming. Can Ibring her here till—afterwards? You won't like her, but she's soailing and despondent just now that I think she'll behave herself, andI'll take her away as soon as she's able to travel. She would neverstay here in the country, anyway; you couldn't hire her to do it."

　　She came: black-haired, sullen-faced Eva, with a vulgar beauty of herown, much damaged by bad temper, discontent, and illness. Oh, thoseterrible weeks for Letty, hiding her own misery, putting on a braveface with the neighbors, keeping the unwelcome sister-in-law in thebackground.

　　It was bitterly cold, and Eva raged against the climate, the house,the lack of a servant, the absence of gayety, and above all at theprospect of motherhood. Her resentment against David, for some reasonunknown to Letty, was deep and profound and she made no secret of it;until the outraged Letty, goaded into speech one day, said: "Listen,Eva! David brought you here because his sister's house was the properplace for you just now. I don't know why you married each other, butyou did, and it's evidently a failure. I'm going to stand by David andsee you through this trouble, but while you're under my roof you'llhave to speak respectfully of my brother; not so much because he's mybrother, but because he's your husband and the father of the childthat's coming:—do you understand?"

　　Letty had a good deal of red in her bronze hair and her brown eyeswere as capable of flashing fire as Eva's black ones; so the girl notonly refrained from venting her spleen upon the absent David, butceased to talk altogether, and the gloom in the house was as black asif Mrs. Popham and all her despondent ancestors were living under itsroof.

　　The good doctor called often and did his best, shrugging his shouldersand lifting his eyebrows as he said: "Let her work out her ownsalvation. I doubt if she can, but we'll give her the chance. If theproblem can be solved, the child will do it."