Jane Field | Page 7

wouldn't--" began Mrs. Field, but the girl was gone.
The minister had started down the other aisle, and she met him at the
door.
Several other people inquired for Lois as Mrs. Field made her way out;
some had heard she was ill in bed. She had an errand to do at the store
on her way home; when she reached it she went in, and stood waiting at
the counter.
There were a number of men lounging about the large, rank, becluttered
room, and there were several customers. The village post-office was in
one corner of the store. There were only two clerks besides the
proprietor, who was postmaster as well. Mrs. Field had to wait quite a
while; but at last she had made her purchases, and was just stepping out
the door, when a voice arrested her. "Mis' Field," it said.
She turned, and saw the postmaster coming toward her with a letter in

his hand. The lounging men twisted about and stared lazily. The
postmaster was a short, elderly man with shelving gray whiskers, and a
wide, smiling mouth, which he was drawing down solemnly.
"Mis' Field, here's a letter I want you to look at; it come this mornin',"
he said, in a low voice.
Mrs. Field took the letter. It was directed, in a fair round hand, to Mrs.
Esther Maxwell; that had been her dead sister's name. She stood
looking at it, her face drooping severely. "It was sent to my sister," said
she.
"I s'posed so. Well, I thought I'd hand it to you."
Mrs. Field nodded gravely, and put the letter in her pocket. She was
again passing out, when somebody nudged her heavily. It was Mrs.
Green, a woman who lived in the next house beyond hers.
"Jest wait a minute," she said, "an' I'll go along with you."
So Mrs. Field stood back and waited, while her neighbor pushed
forward to the counter. After a little she drew the letter from her pocket
and studied the superscription. The post-mark was Elliot. She supposed
the letter to be from her dead sister's father-in-law, who lived there.
"I may jest as well open it an' see what it is while I'm waitin'," she
thought.
She tore open the envelope slowly and clumsily with her stiff fingers,
and held up the letter so the light struck it. She could not read strange
writing easily, and this was a nearly illegible scrawl. However, after the
first few words, she seemed to absorb it by some higher faculty than
reading. In a short time she had the gist of the letter. It was from a
lawyer who signed himself Daniel Tuxbury. He stated formally that
Thomas Maxwell was dead; that he had left a will greatly to Esther
Maxwell's advantage, and that it would be advisable for her to come to
Elliot at an early date if possible. Inclosed was a copy of the will. It
was dated several years ago. All Thomas Maxwell's property was

bequeathed without reserve to his son's widow, Esther Maxwell, should
she survive him. In case of her decease before his own, the whole was
to revert to his brother's daughter, Flora Maxwell.
Jane Field read the letter through twice, then she folded it, replaced it in
the envelope, and stood erect by the store door. She could see Mrs.
Green's broad shawled back among the customers at the calico counter.
Once in a while she looked around with a beseeching and apologetic
smile.
Mrs. Field thought, "I won't say a word to her about it." However, she
was conscious of no evil motive; it was simply because she was
naturally secretive. She looked pale and rigid.
Mrs. Green remarked it when she finally approached with her parcel of
calico.
"Why, what's the matter, Mis' Field?" she exclaimed. "You ain't sick,
be you?"
"No. Why?"
"Seems to me you look dreadful pale. It was too bad to keep you
standin' there so long, but I couldn't get waited on before. I think Mr.
Robbins had ought to have more help. It's too much for him with only
two clerks, an' the post-office to tend, too. I see you got a letter." Mrs.
Field nodded. The two women went down the steps into the street.
"How's Lois to-night?" Mrs. Green asked as they went along.
"I guess she's about as usual. She didn't say but what she was."
"She ain't left off her school, has she?"
"No," replied Mrs. Field, stiffly, "she ain't."
Suddenly Mrs. Green stopped and laid a heavy hand on Mrs. Field's
arm. "Look here, Mis' Field, I dun'no' as you'll thank me for it, but I'm
goin' to speak real plain to you, the way I'd thank anybody to if 'twas

my Jenny. I'm dreadful afraid you don't realize