Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia ButterworthGreen, Anna Katharine
General
Lost Man's Lane: A Second Episode in the Life of Amelia Butterworth
Green, Anna Katharine
Detective and mystery stories; New York (State) -- Fiction
But she only muttered in lower and lower gutturals, "I can count no
more"; and, disgusted at my failure, being one who accounts failure as
little short of disgrace, I drew back and made my way toward the door,
saying: "She's in a different mood from what she was yesterday when she
snatched a quarter from me at the first intimation it was hers. I don't
think you can get her to do any work to-night. Innocents take these
freaks. Isn't there some one else you can call in?"
The scowl that disfigured his none too handsome features was a fitting
prelude to his words.
"You talk," said he, "as if we had the whole village at our command. How
did you succeed with the locksmith yesterday? Came, didn't he? Well,
that's what we have to expect whenever we want any help."
Whirling on his heel, he led the way out of the hut, whither I would
have immediately followed him if I had not stopped to take another look
at the room, which struck me, even upon a second scrutiny, as one of the
best ordered and best kept I had ever entered. Even the strings and
strings of dried fruits and vegetables, which hung in festoons from
every beam of the roof, were free from dust and cobwebs, and though the
dishes were few and the pans scarce, they were bright and speckless,
giving to the shelf along which they were ranged a semblance of
ornament.
"Wise enough to keep her house in order," thought I, and actually found
it hard to leave, so attractive to my eyes are absolute neatness and
order.
William was pushing at his own gate when I joined him. He looked as if
he wished I had spent the morning with Mother Jane, and was barely civil
in our walk up to the house. I was not, therefore, surprised when he
burst into a volley of oaths at the doorway and turned upon me almost as
if he would forbid me the house, for tap, tap, tap, from some distant
quarter came a distinct sound like that of nails being driven into a
plank.
XXII
THE THIRD NIGHT
Mother Jane must have changed her mind after we left her. For late in
the evening I caught a glimpse of her burly figure in the kitchen as I
went to give Hannah some instructions concerning certain little changes
in the housekeeping arrangements which the girls and I had agreed were
necessary to our mutual comfort.
I wished to address the old crone, but warned, by the ill-concealed
defiance with which Hannah met my advances, that any such attempt on my
part would be met by anything but her accustomed good-nature, I
refrained from showing my interest in her strange visitor, or from even
appearing conscious of her own secret anxieties and evident
preoccupation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account