Fears that Eunice might rebel had been uppermost in Mrs. Markham's mind
when she saw the pile of elegant clothes, for she had a suspicion that
Mrs. Ethelyn would keep as much aloof from the ironing-board as she did
from the dish-washing; but if Eunice was willing and even glad of the
opportunity, why, that made a difference, and the good woman began to
feel so much better that by the time the last article was on the line,
the kitchen floor cleared up, and the basin of water heating on the
stove for her own ablutions, she was quite amiably disposed toward her
grand daughter-in-law, who had not made her appearance since dinner.
Ethelyn liked staying in her chamber better than anywhere else, and it
was especially pleasant there to-day, for Eunice had taken great pains
to make it so, sweeping, and dusting and putting to rights, and patting
the pillows and cushions just as she remembered seeing Melinda do, and
then, after the collar and ribbon had been given to her, going down on
her hands and knees before the fire to wash the hearth with milk, which
gave to the red bricks a polished, shining appearance, and added much to
the cheerfulness of the room. Ethelyn had commended her pleasantly, and,
in the seventh heaven of delight, Eunice had returned to her washing,
taking greater pains than ever with the dainty puffs and frills, and
putting in a stitch where one was needed.
It was very evident that Eunice admired Ethelyn, and Ethelyn in return
began to appreciate Eunice; and when, after dinner, she went to her
room, and, wearied with her unpacking, lay down upon the lounge, she
felt happier than she had since her first sight of Olney. It was
pleasant up there, and the room looked very pretty with the brackets and
ornaments, and pictures she had hung there instead of in the parlor, and
she decided within herself that though disappointed in every respect,
she could be quite comfortable for the few weeks which must intervene
before she went to Washington. She should spend most of the time in the
retirement of her room, mingling as little as possible with the family,
and keeping at a respectful distance from her mother-in-law, whom she
liked less than any of Richard's relations.
"I trust the Olney people will not think it their duty to call," she
thought. "I suppose I shall have to endure the Joneses for Abigail's
sake. Melinda certainly has some taste; possibly I may like her," and
while cogitating upon Melinda Jones and the expected gayeties in
Washington, she fell asleep; nor did Richard's step arouse her, when,
about three o'clock, he came in from the village in quest of some law
documents he wished to see.
Frank Van Buren would probably have kissed her as she lay there sleeping
so quietly; but Richard was in a great hurry. He had plunged at once
into business. Once there were forty men waiting to see and consult "the
Squire," whose reputation for honesty and ability was very great, and
whose simple assertion carried more weight than the roundest oath of
some lawyers, sworn upon the biggest Bible in Olney. Waylaid at every
corner, and plied with numberless questions, he had hardly found an
opportunity to come home to dinner, and now he had no time to waste in
love-making. He saw Ethelyn, however, and felt that his room had never
been as pleasant as it was with her there in it, albeit her coming was
the cause of his books and papers being disturbed and tossed about and
moved where he had much trouble to find them. He felt glad, too, that
she was out of his mother's way, and feeling that all was well, he found
his papers and hurried off to the village again, while Ethelyn slept on
till Eunice Plympton came up to say that "Miss Jones and Melinda were
both in the parlor and wanted her to come down."