ed up on top lookin' more
dead than alive. Once I couldn't stand it: I went over and helped him
pitch some wood on the cart--I was always strong in my arms. I
wouldn't stop for all he told me to, and I guess he was glad enough for
the help. That was only a week before he died. He fell on the kitchen
floor while he was gettin' breakfast. He always got the breakfast and
let Luella lay abed. He did all the sweepin' and the washin' and the
ironin' and most of the cookin'. He couldn't bear to have Luella lift
her finger, and she let him do for her. She lived like a queen for all
the work she did. She didn't even do her sewin'. She said it made her
shoulder ache to sew, and poor Erastus's sister Lily used to do all her
sewin'. She wa'n't able to, either; she was never strong in her back,
but she did it beautifully. She had to, to suit Luella, she was so
dreadful particular. I never saw anythin' like the fagottin' and
hemstitchin' that Lily Miller did for Luella. She made all Luella's
weddin' outfit, and that green silk dress, after Maria Babbit cut it.
Maria she cut it for nothin', and she did a lot more cuttin' and
fittin' for nothin' for Luella, too. Lily Miller went to live with
Luella after Erastus died. She gave up her home, though she was real
attached to it and wa'n't a mite afraid to stay alone. She rented it
and she went to live with Luella right away after the funeral."

Then this old woman, Lydia Anderson, who remembered Luella Miller,
would go on to relate the story of Lily Miller. It seemed that on the
removal of Lily Miller to the house of her dead brother, to live with
his widow, the village people first began to talk. This Lily Miller
had been hardly past her first youth, and a most robust and blooming
woman, rosy-cheeked, with curls of strong, black hair overshadowing
round, candid temples and bright dark eyes. It was not six months
after she had taken up her residence with her sister-in-law that her
rosy colour faded and her pretty curves became wan hollows. White
shadows began to show in the black rings of her hair, and the light
died out of her eyes, her features sharpened, and there were pathetic
lines at her mouth, which yet wore always an expression of utter
sweetness and even happiness. She was devoted to her sister; there was
no doubt that she loved her with her whole heart, and was perfectly
content in her service. It was her sole anxiety lest she should die and
leave her alone.