" He had tried
that, gently and persistently when first her mind began to be
confused from long grief and hurt love, stricken pride and sick
suspense.
Instead of that, Ivory turned the subject cheerily, saying,
"Well, we're sure of a good season, I think. There's been a grand
snow-fall, and that, they say, is the poor man's manure. Rod and
I will put in more corn and potatoes this year. I shan't have to
work single-handed very long, for he is growing to be quite a
farmer."
"Your father was very fond of green corn, but he never cared for
potatoes," Mrs. Boynton said, vaguely, taking up her knitting. "I
always had great pride in my cooking, but I could never get your
father to relish my potatoes."
"Well, his son does, anyway," Ivory replied, helping himself
plentifully from a dish that held one of his mother's best
concoctions, potatoes minced fine and put together into the
spider with thin bits of pork and all browned together.
"I saw the Baxter girls to-day, mother," he continued, not
because he hoped she would give any heed to what he said, but
from the sheer longing for companionship. "The Deacon drove off
with Lawyer Wilson, who wanted him to give testimony in some case
or other down in Milltown.
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