"He gave him three thousand dollars to buy that land and some cows and put up a barn," said Sophia, and her audience drew a long simultaneous breath.
"That was great," said Eunice.
"And he's made Flora a wedding-present of five shares in the Ayres street-railroad stock, so she should have a little spendin'-money," said Sophia.
"I call him a pretty generous man," said Abby Dodd.
"Generous enough," said Sophia Lane, "only he didn't know how to steer his generosity."
The guests rose; they were looking somewhat uncomfortable and embarrassed. Sophia went into the bedroom to get their wraps, letting a breath of ice into the sitting-room. While she was gone the guests conferred hastily with one another.
When she returned, Mrs. Cutting faced her, not unamiably, but confusedly. "Now look here, Sophia Lane," said she, "I want you to speak right out. You needn't hesitate. We all want the truth. Is—anything the matter with our presents we brought to-day?"
"Use your own jedgment," replied Sophia Lane.
"Where are those presents we brought?" asked Mrs. Cutting. She and her daughters all looked sober and doubtful, but not precisely angry.
"They are in the parlor," replied Sophia.
"Suppose you get them," said Mrs. Cutting.
When Sophia returned with the alcohol-lamp and afternoon-tea kettle, the finger-bowls and the doilies, the guests had on their wraps. Abby Dodd and Eunice at once went about tying up the presents. Mrs. Cutting looked on. Sophia got her little shawl and hood. She was going out to the barn to assist her guests in getting their horse out.
"Has Flora got any dishes?" asked Mrs. Cutting, thoughtfully.
"No, she hasn't got anything but her mother's china tea-set," replied Sophia. "She hasn't got any good dishes for common use."
"No dinner-set?"
"No; mine are about used up, and I've been careful with 'em too."
Mrs. Cutting considered a minute longer. "Has she got some good tumblers?" she asked.
"No, she hasn't. We haven't any too many tumblers in the house."
"How is she off for napkins?" asked Eunice, tying up her doilies.
"She ain't any too well off. She's had a dozen give her, and that's all."
The guests, laden with the slighted wedding-gifts, followed Sophia through the house, the kitchen, and the clean, cold wood-shed to the barn. Sophia slid back the heavy doors.
"Well, good-by, Sophia," said Mrs. Cutting. "We've had a nice time, and we've enjoyed seeing Flora's presents."
"Yes, so have I," said Eunice.
"I think she's fared real well," said Abby.
"Yes, she has," said Sophia.
"We shall be over in good season," said Eunice.
"Yes, we shall," assented Abby.
Sophia untied the horse, which had been fastened to a ring beside the door; still the guests did not move to get into the sleigh. A curious air of constraint was over them. Sophia also looked constrained and troubled. Her poor faithful face peering from the folds of her gray wool hood was defiant and firm, but still anxious. She looked at Mrs. Cutting, and the two women's eyes met; there was a certain wistfulness in Sophia's.
"I think a good deal of Flora," said she, and there was a hint of apology in her tone.
Simultaneously the three women moved upon Sophia, their faces cleared; lovely expressions of sympathy and kindly understanding appeared upon them.
"Good-by, Sophia," said Mrs. Cutting, and kissed her.
"Good-by, Cousin Sophia," said the daughters, and they also kissed her.
When they drove out of the snowy yard, three smiling faces turned back for a last greeting to Sophia. She slid together the heavy barn doors. She was smiling happily, though there were tears in her eyes.
"Everybody in this world means to be pretty good to other folks," she muttered to herself, "and when they ain't, it ain't always their fault; sometimes it's other folks'."
