The Green Satin Gown | Page 9

moment he was greeting Lena Laxen cordially, and she was
dimpling and smiling all over at his compliments. Lena thought Mr.
Hitchcock "just elegant!" and believed that Mary was jealous when she
said she did not like him. Something now prompted her to tell him
about the silk waist in the forbidden sack; he took her view at once and
zealously. The boss (for he did not use the kindly title of "Old Man," by
which the other mill-hands designated Mr. Gordon, though he was
barely forty) had his eye on the things, most likely, as he had on the pin
Mary Denison found. Hadn't Lena heard about that? Well, it was a
burning shame, he could tell her; he would see that she, Lena, wasn't
fooled that way. And Lena, listening eagerly, heard a story very
different from that which had been told to Mr. Gordon.
In an hour the whole mill knew that Mary Denison had found a
diamond pin in the rags, and that Mr. Gordon had told her it was
nothing but hard glue, and had sold it himself in Boston for a thousand
dollars, and spent the money on a new horse.
Nor was this all! Late that evening Lena Laxen stole from her home
with a shawl over her head, and met the clerk by the corner of the outer
shed. A few minutes of whispering and giggling, and she stole back,
with a bundle under her shawl; while Hitchcock tied a bright silk
handkerchief round his neck, and strutted off with the air of a
conqueror.
Next morning, as Mary Denison was going to her work, Lena rapped
on the window, and called her attention by signs to the bodice she had
on. It was a gay striped silk, little worn, but still showing, in spite of
pressing, the marks of crumpling and tossing. The bright colors suited
Lena's dark skin well, and as she stood there with flushed cheeks and
sparkling eyes, Mary thought she had never seen her look prettier. At
first she nodded and smiled in approval; but the next moment a thought
darted into her mind that made her clasp her hands, and cry anxiously:

"Oh! Lena, you didn't do it! you never did it! it's not that waist you
have on?"
Lena affected not to hear. She only nodded and laughed triumphantly,
and turned away, leaving Mary standing pale and distressed outside the
window.
Mary hesitated. Should she go in and reason further with the wilful girl,
and try to persuade her to restore the stolen garment? Something told
her it would be useless; but still she was on the point of going in, when
old James Gregory came by, and asked her to walk on with him.
She complied, but not without an anxious look back at the window,
where no one was now to be seen.
"Well, May," said Gregory, "how're ye feelin' to-day? hearty? that's
clever! I hope you wasn't frettin' about that pin any. Most girls would,
but you ain't the fool kind."
"I don't know, Mr. Gregory!" said Mary, laughing. "I'm afraid I have
thought about it more or less, but I haven't been fretting. Where's the
use?"
"Jes' so! jes' so!" assented the old man, with alacrity.
"And I didn't say anything to Mother," Mary went on. "I didn't want her
to know about it unless something was really coming of it. Poor Mother!
she has enough to think about."
"She has so!" said Gregory. "A sight o' thinkin' your mother doos,
Mary, and good thoughts, every one of 'em, I'll bet my next pay. She's a
good woman, your mother; I guess likely you know it without me
sayin' so. I call Susan Denison the best woman I know, and I've told my
wife so, more times than she says she has any occasion for. I don't say
she's an angel, but she's a good woman, and that's as fur as we're likely
to get in this world.
"But that ain't what I wanted to say to you, May! Somehow or 'nother,

the story's got round about your findin' that pin yesterday. You didn't
say nothin'?"
"Not a word!" said Mary. "How could it--"
"'Twas that pison Hitchcock, I expect!" said Gregory. "I see him lookin'
up with his little eyes, as red as a ferret, and as ugly. I bet he started the
hull thing; and he's tacked on a passel of lies, and the endurin' place is
hummin' with it. Thought I'd tell ye before ye went in, so's ye could fix
up a little what to say."
Mary thanked him cordially, and passed on into the mill: the old man
looked after her with a very friendly glance in his keen blue eyes.
"She's good stuff, May is!" he murmured.