Miss Gibbie Gault | Page 3

goes Mary
Cary!" and, looking up, the ladies saw her smile and nod and shake her
fan at some one who was passing.
"Is she riding?" asked Mrs. Webb, threading the needle held closely to
her eyes--"or walking?"
"Riding, and without a piece of hat. That little Peggy McDougal is with
her, holding a green parasol over both."

"Mary Cary will ruin that child," said Mrs. Pryor. "She is constantly
taking her about and giving her things. But Mary, of course, does as she
pleases. She always has and always will."
"She pleases a lot of people besides herself, and I always did say if you
could do that you certainly ought to, for there are so few that can. But I
don't think Mary gives herself a thought. Did you all know the
night-school teacher is going to leave?" and Mrs. Tate put down her fan
long enough to again wipe her face with Mrs. Webb's handkerchief.
"Mary is so sorry about it, but, of course, she can't help it."
"I believe she can help it." Mrs. Pryor looked around the room as if for
confirmation. "Everybody knows the reason he's going. I believe any
girl can keep a man from falling in love with her if she wants to. The
trouble with Mary is she doesn't want to. There are my girls. You don't
catch them encouraging attentions they don't want."
Mrs. Moon's foot pressed Mrs. Corbin's. Miss Matoaca
Brockenborough's elbow nudged Mrs. Tazewell, but no one spoke, and
Mrs. Pryor went on: "But Mary Cary has been a law unto herself from
childhood, and, now she is back in Yorkburg, she thinks she can keep it
up, can live her life independently of others, can do her own way, come
and go as she pleases, and not be criticized. Yorkburg isn't used to
having a young woman livein a house alone, except for a white servant
whom nobody knows anything about."
"She's got three servants," chimed Mrs. Tate. "Ephraim and Kezia both
live with her."
"I wasn't speaking of colored servants." Again Mrs. Pryor waved her
fan as if for silence. "Besides, they have their quarters outside, and both
are old. Out West people may do the things she is doing, but in Virginia
we are different. We--"
"Oh, we're nothing of the kind, Lizzie," and Mrs. Webb laid her sewing
in her lap. "Yorkburg is like all the rest of the world, as we would know
if we went about more. The trouble is, we think we are the world."

"I don't see why Mary Cary shouldn't live in the way she wants to,"
said Mrs. Corbin. "We live to suit ourselves, and why shouldn't she?
Heaven knows she's done enough for Yorkburg since she came back. I
think she was mighty good to come and live in a quiet little town like
this, when she could live almost anywhere she wants. And think of the
money she spends here!"
"That is just it! Where does all that money come from? Only yesterday
she chartered the General Maury to take the orphan children on an
all-day picnic to Wayne Beach on the fourteenth of this month, and all
at her expense. It takes money to do things of this kind. She says she is
not rich. Where does the money come from?"
Mrs. Pryor tapped the table on which her hands had rested and looked
around with an answer-that-now-if-you-can air, and several started to
answer. Mrs. Burnham's voice was clearest, however, and as she spoke
those in front turned to hear her.
"We don't know where it comes from," she said, courageously, though
her face flushed, "and I am not sure that it is required of us to know. If
Miss Cary prefers not to discuss her money matters, we have no right to
inquire into them. I have not been here very long, and I don't know
Yorkburg as well as the people who were born here, but if more of us
took interest in the things she--"
"In Yorkburg, Mrs. Burnham, women are not supposed to take interest
in what are conceded to be the affairs of men."
Mrs. Pryor was withering in her disapproval, and this time Mrs. Corbin
touched Miss Matoaca's foot. "I suppose you allude to the streets of
Yorkburg, the schools, and library--and some other things. All these
Western and Northern ideas which Mary Cary has brought back are
very distasteful to the Virginians of historic ancestry. We have gotten
on very well for many centuries without women meddling in men's
matters. I have good authority for what I say. It is unscriptural. St. Paul
says, let the women keep silent and learn of their husbands at home!"
The door behind Mrs. Pryor's back had opened while she was talking,

and Miss Gibbie