Page:Lippincotts Monthly Magazine-70.djvu/767



HE afternoon sun poured down with scorching heat. A little old woman, bending over the stone wall, glanced up impatiently. She dropped the large, flat stone that she had lifted from its place, and, feeling in the silk bag hanging at her side, drew out a spotless handkerchief, with which she wiped her face.

"Terrible hot," she murmured. Seems's if it got hotter'n' hotter every year."

She replaced the handkerchief in the bag, and lifting the stone once more, carried it laboriously across the open yard to the straight path that ran from the door to the road. She dropped it with a sigh in the path and straightened her back stiffly.

"There," she said, "that makes ten."

She glanced at them complacently.

"It'll be one good, smooth place to walk on," she murmured. "The old wall wa'n't good for anything anyway."

She looked towards the low, tumble-down wall, beyond which an orchard shimmered in the hot light. Beyond the orchard the ground dipped sharply into a hollow. A road curved from this hollow and ran along in front of the house. As the old woman stood looking towards the orchard, a head rose over the hill facing towards the house. It was large and round and fair and rested on a pair of plump shoulders.

The old woman peered at it sharply. "Melissy," she said, under her breath. "Well, I'm glad to see a livin' soul."

She started down the path at a brisk trot, the black bag swinging at her side. "How-de-do, Melissy?"

The young woman smiled—a round, slow, placid smile. "How-de-do, Aunt Nancy?" She came leisurely up the long path, fanning herself with her sun-hat, which she had removed. She glanced down at the stones in the path and then at the old woman's flushed face. "What you been doin', Aunt Nancy?" she asked.

"Makin' a walk." The tone had a shade of defiance.

"Makin' a walk!"

The old woman nodded. "It'll be one good, smooth place to walk on 'fore I die," she said.