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"What'll she do to you?"
"I don't know, if she finds out. I sha'n't tell her, if Ican help it without lying."
Diantha fastened her gingham frock securely over theprism. Then she rose, and the two little girls went
homeacross the dry stubble of the field.
"I didn't go when she called me, and I didn't go whenthe supper-bell rang," said Diantha.
Libby stared at her wonderingly. She had never felt animpulse to disobedience in her life; she could not
under-
212 Mary E. Wilkins
stand this other child, who was a law unto herself. Shewalked very carefully in her large slippers.
"What'll she do to you?" she inquired.
Diantha tossed her head like a colt.
"She won't do anything, I guess, except make me gowithout my supper. If she does, I ain't afraid; but I
guessshe won't, and I'd a heap rather go without my supperthan go to it when I don't want to."
Libby looked at her with admiring wonder. Dianthawas neatly and rigorously, rather than tastefully,
dressed.Her dark blue-and-white gingham frock was starchedstiffly; it hung exactly at the proper height
from her slen-der ankles; she wore a clean white collar; and her yellowhair was braided very tightly and
smoothly, and tied witha punctilious blue bow. In strange contrast with thealmost martial preciseness of
her attire was the expres-sion of her little face, flushed, eager to enthusiasm,almost wild, with a light in her
blue eyes which did not belong there, according to the traditions concerning littleNew England maidens,
with a feverish rose on hercheeks, which should have been cool and pale. However,that had all come
since she had dangled the prism in therays of the setting sun.
"What did you think you saw when you shook thatear-drop off the lamp?" asked Libby; but she asked
with- out much curiosity.
"Red and green and yellow colors, of course," repliedDiantha, shortly.
When they reached Diantha's door, Libby bade hergood night, and sped across the road to her own
house.She stood a little in fear of Diantha's stepmother, ifDiantha did not. She knew just the sort of look
whichwould be directed toward the other little girl, and sheknew from experience that it might include
her. Fromher Puritan ancestry she had a certain stubbornness when brought to bay, but no courage of
aggression; so she ran.
Diantha marched in. She was utterly devoid of fear.
Her stepmother, Mrs. Zenas May, was washing thesupper dishes at the kitchen sink. All through the
housesounded a high sweet voice which was constantly off thekey, singing a lullaby to the two little girls,
who had to
THE PRISM 213
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go to bed directly after they had finished their eveningmeal.
Mrs. Zenas May turned around and surveyed Diantha as she entered. There was nothing in the least
unkind inher look; it was simply the gaze of one on a firm stand-point of existence upon another swaying
on a precarious balance the sort of look a woman seated in a car givesto one standing. It was
irresponsible, while cognizant ofthe discomfort of the other person.
"Where were you when the supper-bell rang?" askedMrs. Zenas May. She was rather a pretty woman,
withan exquisitely cut profile. Her voice was very even,almost as devoid of inflections as a
deaf-and-dumb per-son's. Her gingham gown was also rigorously starched.Her fair hair showed high
lights of gloss from carefulbrushing; it was strained back from her blue-veinedtemples.
"Out in the field," replied Diantha.
"Then you heard it?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"The supper-table is cleared away," said Mrs. May. That was all she said. She went on polishing the
tum-blers, which she was rinsing in ammonia water.
Diantha glanced through the open door and saw thedining-room table with its chenille after-supper cloth
on.She made no reply, but went up-stairs to her own cham-ber. That was very comfortable the large
south one back of her step-parents'. Not a speck of dust was to be seen in it; the feather-bed was an
even mound of snow. Diantha sat down by the window, and gazed out at thedeepening dusk. She felt at
the prism around her neck,but she did not draw it out, for it was of no use in thatlow light. She could not
invoke the colors which it held.Her chamber door was open. Presently she heard the best-parlor door
open, and heard quite distinctly herstepmother's voice. She was speaking to her stepfather. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] - zanotowane.pl
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