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148
The Country of the Pointed Firs
·
Sarah Orne Jewett
47
I
accustomed
myself
to
plain
facts
on
the
instant,
and
we
said
good-morning
like
old
friends.
The
basket
was
really
heavy,
and
I
put
the
hoe
through
its
handle
and
offered
him
one
end;
then
we
moved
easily
toward
the
house
together,
speaking
of
the
fine
weather
and
of
mackerel
which
were
reported
to
be
striking
in
all
about
the
bay.
William
had
been
out
since
three
o'clock,
and
had
taken
an
extra
fare
of
fish.
I
could
feel
that
Mrs.
Todd's
eyes
were
upon
us
as
we
approached
the
house,
and
although
I
fell
behind
in
the
narrow
path,
and
let
William
take
the
basket
alone
and
precede
me
at
some
little
distance
the
rest
of
the
way,
I
could
plainly
hear
her
greet
him.
“Got
round
to
comin'
in,
didn't
you?”
she
inquired,
with
amusement.
“Well,
now,
that's
clever.
Didn't
know's
I
should
see
you
to-day,
William,
an'
I
wanted
to
settle
an
account.”
I
felt
somewhat
disturbed
and
responsible,
but
when
I
joined
them
they
were
on
most
simple
and
friendly
terms.
It
became
evident
that,
with
William,
it
was
the
first
step
that
cost,
and
that,
having
once
joined
in
social
interests,
he
was
able
to
pursue
them
with
more
or
less
pleasure.
He
was
about
sixty,
and
not
young-looking
for
his
years,
yet
so
undying
is
the
spirit
of
youth,
and
bashfulness
has
such
a
power
of
survival,
that
I
felt
all
the
time
as
if
one
must
try
to
make
the
occasion
easy
for
some
one
who
was
young
and
new
to
the
affairs
of
social
life.
He
asked
politely
if
I
would
like
to
go
up
to
the
great
ledge
while
dinner
was
getting
ready;
so,
not
without
a
deep
sense
of
pleasure,
and
a
delighted
look
of
surprise
from
the
two
hostesses,
we
started,
William
and
I,
as
if
both
of
us
felt
much
younger
than
we
looked.
Such
was
the
innocence
and
simplicity
of
the
moment
that
when
I
heard
Mrs.
Todd
laughing
behind
us
in
the
kitchen
I
laughed
too,
but
William
did
not
even
blush.
I
think
he
was
a
little
deaf,
and
he
stepped
along
before
me
most
businesslike
and
intent
upon
his
errand.
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