Miss Gibbie Gault | Page 6

and her loneliness so persistently that William, being a man,
walked in. Six weeks later they were married."
"I wonder if it was really true the way they say she used to do," and
Mrs. Tate, whose needle was now lost, was again fanning vigorously.
"What way?" Miss Gibbie turned so quickly toward her that Mrs. Tate
jumped.
"Why, I heard when she was first married that if she couldn't have just
what she wanted, or if Mr. Pryor did anything she didn't like, she would
lie flat down on her back and kick her heels on the floor so loud you
could hear it all over the house. I don't believe it was true."
"You don't? Well, it was, with this difference. When she wanted a thing
for herself, she lay on her back and kicked. When she wanted it for the
children, she lay on her stomach and cried. Either way she got what she
wanted."
The turkey-wing fan waved back and forth, then Miss Gibbie got up.

"This is dirty work we are doing. I prefer to make my remarks to
people's faces so they can remark back. And this isn't what I came to
this meeting for. I know the talk that has been going around lately
about Mary Cary. Lizzie Pryor has led it, and I came here this morning
to tell her so. The people in Yorkburg are like all other people. They
pat the fat shoulder, and shake the full hand, and eat of the bounty, and
then, when some jealous-minded, squint-eyed Christian, so-called,
starts questions and speculations, everybody repeats them and some try
to answer."
"But why are you talking to us like this, Miss Gibbie? We are Mary's
friends and oughtn't to be taken to task for what we haven't done and
don't approve of," said Mrs. Corbin. "We--"
"Then if you are Mary's friends you will tell other people what I am
telling you. You will cut short all this twaddle about her great wealth
and Western ways and numberless beaux. It's the last that sticks so in
Puss Jenkins's throat. Puss never had a beau herself, and she can't get
reconciled to Mary's many."
"Oh, she did have one." Mrs. Moon spoke for the first time since Mrs.
Pryor left. "Don't you remember Mr. Thoroughgood?"
"He never courted her. He told me so himself. He thought over it and
prayed over it, and at last decided he'd do it, but he never did. He
bought her a box of candy for which he paid sixty cents--told me that,
too--and went to the house prepared to speak the word. I remember the
night very well. He tiptoed up the front steps and stood on the porch
where he could hear voices in the parlor. Puss and her mother were
talking, and 'Mercy on me,' he said, 'I never had such a narrow escape
in all my life. She was scolding her mother, quarreling with her,
lecturing her for something. I tell you I tiptoed down in a hurry.'"
Miss Gibbie made the mincing steps of Mr. Thoroughgood and so
mimicked his thin, piping voice that all laughed, then she nodded at
Mrs. Moon--"I got the candy.
"But to go back to Mary. She has heard some of the things said about

her, and so have I. Mrs. Deford told her Yorkburg did not need to be
washed and ironed, and Lizzie Bettie Pryor wrote her a note informing
her Southern people had no sympathy with Northern ideas, and if she
wished to keep her old friends in Yorkburg she should be more careful
in making new acquaintances. Now this is what I want understood. She
is my friend. If any one wishes to ask questions about her, come to me.
For statements made against her I will go to them. She has no mother. I
have no child. As long as I am here and she is here, we are to be
reckoned with together. This is what I came here to say. You can repeat
it. I will see that Lizzie Pryor and her daughters hear it, and Mrs.
Deford and Puss Jenkins and Mr. Benny Brickhouse--"
The door opened noisily and again the maid-servant's head was thrust
in. "Mis' Tate," she said, excitedly, "somebody done phone from Mis'
Pryor's and say Mr. Pryor done gone and died. She say please
somebody come on down there quick, that Mis' Pryor is just carryin' on
awful."
The ladies sprang to their feet with shocked and frightened faces, but it
was Miss Gibbie who spoke.
"Poor William!" she said. "Poor William! Lizzie knew he could never
eat sausage, and she had it this morning for breakfast!"
Chapter III
APPLE-BLOSSOM LAND
Several days had passed since gentle William Pryor had at last found
rest.