But in all the neighborhood it was
called the big house, so Mrs. Troost was in some measure compensated for
the pains it cost her. It was, however, as she said, a barn of a place,
with half the rooms unfurnished, partly because they had no use for
them, and partly because they were unable to get furniture. So it stood
right in the sun, with no shutters, and no trees about it, and Mrs.
Troost said she didn't suppose it ever would have. She was always
opposed to building it; but she never had her way about any thing.
Nevertheless, some people said Mr. Troost had taken the dimensions of
his house with his wife's apron-strings--but that may have been slander.
While Mrs. Troost sat sighing over things in general, Mrs. Hill sewed on
the last button, and, shaking the loose threads from the completed
garment, held it up a moment to take a satisfactory view, as it were,
and folded it away.
"Well, did you ever!" said Mrs. Troost. "You have made half a shirt, and
I have got nothing at all done. My hands sweat so I can not use the
needle, and it's no use to try."
"Lay down your work for a little while, and we will walk in the garden."
So Mrs. Hill threw a towel over her head, and, taking a little tin basin
in her hand, the two went to the garden--Mrs. Troost under the shelter
of the blue umbrella, which she said was so heavy that it was worse than
nothing. Beans, radishes, raspberries, and currants, besides many other
things, were there in profusion, and Mrs.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63