"
"More trouble at home?" he inquired in a low voice.
"Yes," answered Lindy, in a choked voice, "since Mr. Putnam died it has
been worse than ever. While he lived she had him to talk to; but now she
insists on talking to me, and sends for me several times a day,
ostensibly to do something for her, but really simply to get me in the
room so she can talk over the old, old story, and say spiteful and
hateful things to me. May Heaven pardon me for saying so, Mr. Sawyer,
but I am thankful that it's nearly at an end."
"Why, what do you mean," asked Quincy, "is she worse?"
"Yes," said Lindy, "she is failing very rapidly physically, but her
voice and mental powers are as strong as ever; in fact, I think she is
more acute in her mind and sharper in her words than she has ever been
before. Dr. Budd ordered some medicine that I could not get at the
Centre, and so there was no way for me except to go to the city for it.
Let me tell you now, Mr. Sawyer, something that I should have been
obliged to write to you, if I had not seen you. I shall stay with Mrs.
Putnam until she dies, for I promised Jones that I would, and I could
never break any promise that I made to him; but the very moment that
she's dead I shall leave the house and the town forever!"
"Shall you not stay to the funeral?" said Quincy; "what will the
townspeople say?"
"I don't care what they say," rejoined Lindy, in a sharp tone; "she is
not my mother, and I will not stay to the funeral and hypocritically
mourn over her, when in my secret heart I shall be glad she is dead.
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