.

Luke limped into the house hastily. He was not mistaken. There was a
company air in the room, a stiff hostile-polite taint in the atmosphere.
Three visitors sat in the kitchen, and a large hamper, its contents
partly disgorged, stood on the table. Luke knew that it contained
gifts--the hateful, merciful, nauseating charity of the better-off.

Aunt Mollie was speaking as he entered--a large, high-colored,
pouter-pigeon-chested woman, with a great many rings with bright stones,
and a nodding pink plume in her hat. She was holding up a bifurcated
crimson garment, and greeted Luke absently.

"Three pair o' them underdrawers, Delia--an' not a break in one of 'em!
I sez, as soon as I see Clem layin' 'em aside this spring, 'Them
things'll be jest right fur Delia's Jere, layin' there with the
rheumatiz.' They may come a little loose; but, of course, you can't be
choicey. I've b'en at Clem fur five years to buy him union suits; but
he's always b'en so stuck on red flannen. But now he's got two
aut'mobiles, countin' the new delivery, I guess he's gotta be more tony;
so he made out to spare 'em. And now that hat, Delia--it ain't a mite
wore out, an' fur all you'll need one it's plenty good enough. I only
had it two years and I guess folks won't remember; an' what if they
do--they all know you get my things. Same way with that collarette. It's
a little moth-eaten, but it won't matter fur you.... The gray suit you
can easy cut down fur Luke, there--"

She droned on, the other woman making dry automatic sounds of assent.
She looked cool--Maw--Luke thought; but she wasn't. Not by a darn sight!
There was a spot of pink in each cheek and she stared hard every little
bit at Grampaw Peel's funeral plate on the mantel. Luke knew what she
was thinking of--poor Maw! She was burning in a fire of her own
lighting. She had brought it all on herself--on the whole of them.

Years ago she had been just like Aunt Mollie. The daughters of a
prosperous village carpenter, they had shared beads, beaux and bangles
until Maw, in a moment's madness, had chucked it all away to marry poor
Paw. Now she had made her bed, she must lie in it. Must sit and say
"Thank you!" for Aunt Mollie's leavings, precious scraps she dared not
refuse--Maw, who had a pride as fierce and keen as any! It was devilish!
Oh, it was kind of Aunt Mollie to give; it was the taking that came so
bitter hard. And then they weren't genteel about their giving. There was
always that