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148
The Country of the Pointed Firs
·
Sarah Orne Jewett
145
“I've
seen
to
everything
now,”
she
told
me
in
an
unusually
loud
and
business-like
voice.
“Your
trunks
are
on
the
w'arf
by
this
time.
Cap'n
Bowden
he
come
and
took
'em
down
himself,
an'
is
going
to
see
that
they're
safe
aboard.
Yes,
I've
seen
to
all
your
'rangements,”
she
repeated
in
a
gentler
tone.
“These
things
I've
left
on
the
kitchen
table
you'll
want
to
carry
by
hand;
the
basket
needn't
be
returned.
I
guess
I
shall
walk
over
towards
the
Port
now
an'
inquire
how
old
Mis'
Edward
Caplin
is.”
I
glanced
at
my
friend's
face,
and
saw
a
look
that
touched
me
to
the
heart.
I
had
been
sorry
enough
before
to
go
away.
“I
guess
you'll
excuse
me
if
I
ain't
down
there
to
stand
around
on
the
w'arf
and
see
you
go,”
she
said,
still
trying
to
be
gruff.
“Yes,
I
ought
to
go
over
and
inquire
for
Mis'
Edward
Caplin;
it's
her
third
shock,
and
if
mother
gets
in
on
Sunday
she'll
want
to
know
just
how
the
old
lady
is.”
With
this
last
word
Mrs.
Todd
turned
and
left
me
as
if
with
sudden
thought
of
something
she
had
forgotten,
so
that
I
felt
sure
she
was
coming
back,
but
presently
I
heard
her
go
out
of
the
kitchen
door
and
walk
down
the
path
toward
the
gate.
I
could
not
part
so;
I
ran
after
her
to
say
good-by,
but
she
shook
her
head
and
waved
her
hand
without
looking
back
when
she
heard
my
hurrying
steps,
and
so
went
away
down
the
street.
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