become prone to fits of unwonted silence from which he seemed to arouse
himself with an effort and, after a glance at her, to talk and laugh
louder than ever, Once she ventured to ask how business was and it would
have been almost funny if it had not been so pathetic, the haste with
which they both assured her that it was about the same.

After dinner she announced her intention of going up to the store. Her
uncles exchanged looks and then Zoeth said:

"What makes you do that, Mary-'Gusta? Nice day like this I'd be out of
door if I was you. We don't need you at the store, do we, Shadrach?"

"Not more'n a fish needs a bathin' suit," declared the Captain,
with conviction. "You go see some of the girls and have a good time,
Mary-'Gusta."

But Mary declined to go and see any of the girls. She could have a
better time at the store than anywhere else, she said. She went to the
store and spent the afternoon and evening there, watching and listening.
There was not much to watch, not more than a dozen customers during
the entire time, and those bought but little. The hardest part of the
experience for her was to see how eager her uncles were to please
each caller and how anxiously each watched the other's efforts and the
result. To see Zoeth at the desk poring over the ledger, his lips moving
and the pencil trembling in his fingers, was as bad as, but no worse
than, to see Captain Shadrach, a frown on his face and his hands in his
pockets, pace the floor from the back door to the front window, stop,
look up the road, draw a long breath that was almost a groan, then turn
and stride back again.