Now Isabel--a great disgust rose in him for the sniveling, selfish
little thing and her impotence in the face of his trouble. "She's just
the kind to play with," he thought, "just a doll, and like the doll,
has as much heart as a thing stuffed with sawdust can have. I guess it
took this jolt to wake me up and know that Isabel Souders is not the
type of girl for me."
When he reached the Reist home he found Amanda and her Uncle Amos on
the porch.
"Oh, it's all right!" the girl cried as he came into the yard. "I can
read it in your face." Gladness rang in her voice like a bell.
"It's all right," Martin told her.
"Good! I'm glad," said Uncle Amos while Amanda smiled her happiness.
"Was I right?" she asked. "Was it the work of Mertzheimers?"
"It was. They must hate me like poison."
"Ach, he's a copperhead," said Uncle Amos. "He's so pesky low and mean
he can't bear to see any one else be honest. You're gettin' up too far
to suit him. It's always so that when abody climbs up the ladder a
little there's some settin' at the foot ready to joggle it, and the
higher abody climbs the more are there to help try to shake you down. I
guess there's mean people everywheres, even in this here beautiful
Garden Spot. But to my notion you got to just go on doin' right and not
mind 'em. They'll get what they earn some day. Nobody has yet sowed
weeds and got a crop of potatoes from it."
"But," said the girl, "I can't understand it. The Mertzheimer people
come from good families and they have certainly been taught to be
different. I can't see where they get their mean streak. With all their
money and chance to improve and opportunities for education and
culture---"
"Ach, money"--said Uncle Amos--"what good does money do them if they
don't have the right mind to use it? My granny used to say still you
can tie a silk ribbon round a pig's neck but she'll wallow in the dirt
just the same first chance she'll get. I guess some people are like
that. Well, Martin, I'm goin' in to tell Millie--the women--it's all
right with you. They was so upset about it. And won't Millie talk!" He
chuckled at the thought of what that staunch woman would say about Mr.
Mertzheimer. "Millie can hit the nail on the head pretty good, pretty
good," he said as he ambled into the house.