Her voice, as she crooned to Juliet, was
musical, but quavery. It provoked the good women of the village, who
began to think that perhaps, after all, she had "had her way."
"There's this much about it," said Miss Beal; "no one else will have
him now."
Mrs. Grumble agreed with her. She disliked Mrs. Wicket because Mr.
Jeminy liked her. He pitied the young woman who had had the misfortune
to marry a thief, and he forgave her for wanting to be happy, because
it did not seem to him that to have been the wife of a good-for-nothing
was much to settle down on. In his opinion, life owed her more than
she had got.
"She is simple and kind," he said to Mrs. Grumble. "She has had very
little to give thanks for."
"She'll have more, then, if she can," replied Mrs. Grumble with a toss
of her head as though to say, "it's you who are simple."
And she looked the other way, when they met on the road. Mr. Jeminy,
on the other hand, often went to call at the little house at the edge
of the village. The young widow, who had no other callers, felt that
one friend was enough when he talked as much as Mr.
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