what diantha did-第3部分

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there；　silent；　now。

Diantha's　heart　was　full　of　love　for　him；　and　pride　and　confidence　in
him；　but　it　was　full　of　other　feelings；　too；　which　he　could　not　fathom。　
His　trouble　was　clearer　to　her　than　to　him；　as　heavy　to　bear。　　To　her
mind；　trained　in　all　the　minutiae　of　domestic　economy；　the　Warden　family
lived　in　careless　wastefulness。　　That　five　womenfor　Dora　was　older
than　she　had　been　when　she　began　to　do　houseworkshould　require
servants；　seemed　to　this　New　England…born　girl　mere　laziness　and　pride。　
That　two　voting　women　over　twenty　should　prefer　being　supported　by　their
brother　to　supporting　themselves；　she　condemned　even　more　sharply。　
Moreover；　she　felt　well　assured　that　with　a　different　family　to
〃support；〃　Mr。　Warden　would　never　have　broken　down　so　suddenly　and
irrecoverably。　　Even　that　funeralher　face　hardened　as　she　thought　of
the　conspicuous　〃lot；〃　the　continual　flowers；　the　monument　（not　wholly
paid　for　yet；　that　monument；　though　this　she　did　not　know）all　that
expenditure　to　do　honor　to　the　man　they　had　worked　to　death　（thus
brutally　Diantha　put　it）　was　probably　enough　to　put　off　their　happiness
for　a　whole　year。

She　rose　at　last；　her　hand　still　held　in　his。　　〃I'm　sorry；　but　I've　got
to　get　supper；　dear；〃　she　said；　〃and　you　must　go。　　Good…night　for　the
present；　you'll　be　round　by　and　by？〃

〃Yes；　for　a　little　while；　after　we　close　up；〃　said　he；　and　took　himself
off；　not　too　suddenly；　walking　straight　and　proud　while　her　eves　were　on
him；　throwing　her　a　kiss　from　the　corner；　but　his　step　lagging　and　his
headache　settling　down　upon　him　again　as　he　neared　the　large　house　with
the　cupola。

Diantha　watched　him　out　of　sight；　turned　and　marched　up　the　path　to　her
own　door；　her　lips　set　tight；　her　well…shaped　head　as　straightly　held　as
his。　　〃It's　a　shame；　a　cruel；　burning　shame！〃　she　told　herself
rebelliously。　　〃A　man　of　his　ability。　　Why；　he　could　do　anything；　in　his
own　work！　　And　he　loved　it　so！

〃To　keep　a　grocery　store

〃〃And　nothing　to　show　for　all　that　splendid　effort！

〃They　don't　do　a　thing？　　They　just　_live_and　'keep　house！'　　All　those
women！

〃Six　years？　　Likely　to　be　sixty！　　But　I'm　not　going　to　wait！〃



WHAT　DIANTHA　DID


CHAPTER　II。

AN　UNNATURAL　DAUGHTER


The　brooding　bird　fulfills　her　task；
　Or　she…bear　lean　and　brown；
All　parent　beasts　see　duty　true；
All　parent　beasts　their　duty　do；
We　are　the　only　kind　that　asks
　For　duty　upside　down。


The　stiff…rayed　windmill　stood　like　a　tall　mechanical　flower；　turning
slowly　in　the　light　afternoon　wind；　its　faint　regular　metallic　squeak
pricked　the　dry　silence　wearingly。　　Rampant　fuchsias；　red…jewelled；
heavy；　ran　up　its　framework；　with　crowding　heliotrope　and　nasturtiums。　
Thick　straggling　roses　hung　over　the　kitchen　windows；　and　a　row　of　dusty
eucalyptus　trees　rustled　their　stiff　leaves；　and　gave　an　ineffectual
shade　to　the　house。

It　was　one　of　those　small　frame　houses　common　to　the　northeastern
states；　which　must　be　dear　to　the　hearts　of　their　dwellers。　　For　no
other　reason；　surely；　would　the　cold　grey　steep…roofed　little　boxes　be
repeated　so　faithfully　in　the　broad　glow　of　a　semi…tropical　landscape。　
There　was　an　attempt　at　a　〃lawn；〃　the　pet　ambition　of　the　transplanted
easterner；　and　a　further　attempt　at　〃flower…beds；〃　which　merely　served
as　a　sort　of　springboard　to　their　far…reaching　products。

The　parlor；　behind　the　closed　blinds；　was　as　New　England　parlors　are；
minus　the　hint　of　cosiness　given　by　even　a　fireless　stove；　the　little
bedrooms　baked　under　the　roof；　only　the　kitchen　spoke　of　human　living；
and　the　living　it　portrayed　was　not；　to　say　the　least；　joyous。　　It　was
clean；　clean　with　a　cleanness　that　spoke　of　conscientious　labor　and
unremitting　care。　　The　zinc　mat　under　the　big　cook…stove　was　scoured　to
a　dull　glimmer；　while　that　swart　altar　itself　shone　darkly　from　its
daily　rubbing。

There　was　no　dust　nor　smell　of　dust；　no　grease　spots；　no　litter
anywhere。　　But　the　place　bore　no　atmosphere　of　contented　pride；　as　does
a　Dutch；　German　or　French　kitchen；　it　spoke　of　Labor；　Economy　and
Dutyunder　restriction。

In　the　dead　quiet　of　the　afternoon　Diantha　and　her　mother　sat　there
sewing。　　The　sun　poured　down　through　the　dangling　eucalyptus　leaves。　
The　dry　air；　rich　with　flower　odors；　flowed　softly　in；　pushing　the　white
sash　curtains　a　steady　inch　or　two。　　Ee…errr！Ee…errr！came　the　faint
whine　of　the　windmill。

To　the　older　woman　rocking　in　her　small　splint　chair　by　the　rose…draped
window；　her　thoughts　dwelling　on　long　dark　green　grass；　the　shade　of
elms；　and　cows　knee…deep　in　river…shallows；　this　was　Californiahot；
arid；　tedious　in　endless　sunlighta　place　of　exile。

To　the　younger；　the　long　seam　of　the　turned　sheet　pinned　tightly　to　her
knee；　her　needle　flying　firmly　and　steadily；　and　her　thoughts　full　of
pouring　moonlight　through　acacia　boughs　and　Ross's　murmured　words；　it
was　Californiarich；　warm；　full　of　sweet　bloom　and　fruit；　of　boundless
vitality；　promise；　and　powerhome！

Mrs。　Bell　drew　a　long　weary　sigh；　and　laid　down　her　work　for　a　moment。

〃Why　don't　you　stop　it　Mother　dear？　　There's　surely　no　hurry　about　these
things。〃

〃Nonot　particularly；〃　her　mother　answered；　〃but　there's　plenty　else　to
do。〃　　And　she　went　on　with　the　long　neat　hemming。　　Diantha　did　the　〃over
and　over　seam〃　up　the　middle。

〃What　_do_　you　do　it　for　anyway；　MotherI　always　hated　this　joband
you　don't　seem　to　like　it。〃

〃They　wear　almost　twice　as　long；　child；　you　know。　　The　middle　gets　worn
and　the　edges　don't。　　Now　they're　reversed。　　As　to　liking　it〃　　She
gave　a　little　smile；　a　smile　that　was　too　tired　to　be　sarcastic；　but
which　certainly　did　not　indicate　pleasure。

〃What　kind　of　work　do　you　like　bestreally？〃　her　daughter　inquired
suddenly；　after　a　silent　moment　or　two。

〃WhyI　don't　know；〃　said　her　mother。　　〃I　never　thought　of　it。　　I　never
tried　any　but　teaching。　　I　didn't　like　that。　　Neither　did　your　Aunt
Esther；　but　she's　still　teaching。〃

〃Didn't　you　like　any　of　it？〃　pursued　Diantha。

〃I　liked　arithmetic　best。　　I　always　loved　arithmetic；　when　I　went　to
schoolused　to　stand　highest　in　that。〃

〃And　what　part　of　housework　do　you　like　best？〃　the　girl　persisted。

Mrs。　Bell　smiled　again；　wanly。　　〃Seems　to　me　sometimes　as　if　I　couldn't
tell　sometimes　what　part　I　like　least！〃　she　answered。　　Then　with　sudden
heat〃O　my　Child！　　Don't　you　marry　till　Ross　can　afford　at　least　one
girl　for　you！〃

Diantha　put　her　small；　strong　hands　behind　her　head　and　leaned　back　in
her　chair。　　〃We'll　have　to　wait　some　time　for　that　I　fancy；〃　she　said。　
〃But；　Mother；　there　is　one　part　you　likekeeping　accounts！　　I　never　saw
anything　like　the　way　you　manage　the　money；　and　I　believe　you've　got
every　bill　since　yon　were　married。〃

〃YesI　do　love　accounts；〃　Mrs。　Bell　admitted。　　〃And　I　can　keep　run　of
things。　　I've　often　thought　your　Father'd　have　done　better　if　he'd　let
me　run　that　end　of　his　business。〃

Diantha　gave　a　fierce　little　laugh。　　She　admired　her　father　in　some
ways；　enjoyed　him　in　some　ways；　loved　him　as　a　child　does　if　not
ill…treated；　but　she　loved　her　mother　with　a　sort　of　passionate　pity
mixed　with　pride；　feeling　always　nobler　power　in　her　than　had　ever　had　a
fair　chance　to　grow。　　It　seemed　to　her　an　interminable　dull　tragedy；
this　graceful；　eager；　black…eyed　woman；　spending　what　to　the　girl　was
literally　a　lifetime；　in　the　conscientious　performance　of　duties　she　did
not　love。

She　knew　her　mother's　idea　of　duty；　knew　the　clear　head；　the　steady
will；　the　active　intelligence　holding　her　relentlessly　to　the　task；　the
chafe　and　fret　of　seeing　her　husband　constantly　attempting　against　her
judgment；　and　failing　for　lack　of　the　help　he　scorned。　　Young　as　she
was；　she　realized　that　the　nervous　breakdown　of　these　later　years　was
wholly　due　to　that　common　misery　of　〃the　square　man　in　the　round　hole。〃

She　folded　her　finished　sheet　in　accurate　lines　and　laid　it　awaytaking
her　mother's　also。　　〃Now　you　sit　still　for　once；　Mother　dear；　read　or
lie　down。　　Don't　you　stir　till　supper's　ready。〃

And　from　pantry　to　table　she　stepped；　swiftly　and　lightly；　setting　out
what　was　needed；　greased　her　pans　and　set　them　before　her；　and　proceeded
to　make　biscuit。

Her　mother　watched　her　admiringly。　　〃How　easy　you　do　it！〃　she　said。　　〃I
never　could　make　bread　without　getting　flour　all　over　me。　　You　don't
spill　a　speck！〃

Diantha　smiled。　　〃I　ought　to　do　it　easily　by　this　time。　　Father's　got　to
have　hot　bread　for　supperor　thinks　he　has！and　I've　made　'emevery
night　when　I　was　at　home　for　this　ten　years　back！〃

〃I　guess　you　have；〃　said　Mrs。　Bell　proudly。　　〃You　were　only　eleven　when
you　made　your　first　batch。　　I　can　remember　just　as　well！　　I　had　one　of
my　bad　headaches　that　nightand　it　did　seem　as　if　I　couldn't　sit　up！　
But　your　Father's　got　to　have　his　biscuit　whether　or　no。　　And　you　said；
'Now　Mother　you　lie　right　still　on　that　sofa　and　let　me　do　it！　　I　can！'　
And　you　could！you　did！　　They　were　bettern'　mine　that　first　timeand
your　Father　praised　'emand　you've　been　at　it　ever　since。〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Diantha；　with　a　deeper　note　of　feeling　than　her　mother
caught；　〃I've　been　at　it　ever　since！〃

〃Except　when　you　were　teaching　school；〃　pursued　her　mother。

〃