Going to the wall, she hung up her large hat
and slightly shook the red dust from her skirts as she continued her
explanation, in the same deep voice, with a certain monotony of logic
and possibly of purpose and practice also.
"You and mother know as well as I do, father, that Stephen is no more to
be depended upon than the wind that blows. It's three years since he has
been promising to come, and even getting money to come, and yet he has
never showed his face, though he has been a dozen times within five
miles of this house. He doesn't come because he doesn't want to come. As
to YOUR going over to the stage-office, I went there myself at the last
moment to save you the mortification of asking questions of strangers
that they know have been a dozen times answered already."
There was such a ring of absolute truthfulness, albeit worn by
repetition, in the young girl's deep honest voice that for one instant
her two more emotional relatives quailed before it; but only for a
moment.
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