New England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Women -- New England -- Fiction
"You've been young, child. You will want 'em as you grow older. Marry
Will Flandin, and you'll have 'em; and you may churn your cream how you
like. I tell you what, Diana; when your arm ain't as strong as it used
to be, and your back gets to aching, and you feel as if you'd like to
sit down and be quiet instead of delvin' and delvin', _then_ you'll
feel as if 't would be handy to put your hand in your pocket and find
cash somewhere. My! I wish I had all the money your father spent for
books. Books just makes some folks crazy. Do you know it's the
afternoon for Society meeting, Diana?"
"I had forgotten it. I shall not go."
"One of us must," said Mrs. Starling. "I don't see how in the world I
can; but I suppose I'll have to. You'll have to make the bread then,
Diana. Yesterday's put me all out. And what are you going to do with
all those blackberries? They're too ripe to keep."
"I'll do them up this afternoon, mother. I'll take care of them."
The morning went in this way, with little intermission. Mrs. Starling
was perhaps uneasy from an undefined fear that something was going not
right with Diana's affairs. She could lay hold on no clue, but perhaps
the secret fear or doubt was the reason why she brought up, as if by
sheer force of affinity, every small and great source of annoyance that
she knew of. All the morning Diana had to hear and answer a string of
suggestions and complainings like the foregoing. She was not
unaccustomed to this sort of thing, perhaps; and doubtless she had her
own hidden antidote to annoyance: yet it belonged still more to the
large sweet nature of the girl, that though annoyed she was never
irritated. Wrinkles never lined themselves on the fair smooth brow;
proper token of the depth and calm of the character within.
CHAPTER X.
IN SUGAR.
Dinner was over, and talk ceased, for Mrs. Starling went to dress
herself for the sewing society, and presently drove off with Prince.
Diana's motions then became as swift as they were noiseless. Her
kitchen was in a state of perfected order and propriety. She went to
dress herself then; a modest dressing, for business, and kitchen
business, too, must claim her all the afternoon; but it is possible to
combine two effects in one's toilet; and if you had seen Diana that
day, you would have comprehended the proposition. A common print gown,
clean and summery-looking, showed her soft outlines at least as well as
a more modish affair would; and the sleeves rolled up to the elbows
revealed Diana's beautiful arms. I am bound to confess she had chosen a
white apron in defiance of possible fruit stains; and the dark hair
tucked away behind her ears gave the whole fair cheek and temple to
view; fair and delicate in contour, and coloured with the very hues of
a perfect physical condition. I think no man but would like to see his
future wife present such a picture of womanly beauty and housewifely
efficiency as Diana was that day. And the best was, she did not know it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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