At the sea she spent her month at an hotel.
The year that her father died she intermitted this custom altogether,
not thinking it consistent with deep mourning; and the year after
that she put off her departure till so late that the middle of August
found her still in the heated solitude of Washington Square. Mrs.
Penniman, who was fond of a change, was usually eager for a visit to
the country; but this year she appeared quite content with such rural
impressions as she could gather, at the parlour window, from the
ailantus-trees behind the wooden paling. The peculiar fragrance of
this vegetation used to diffuse itself in the evening air, and Mrs.
Penniman, on the warm nights of July, often sat at the open window
and inhaled it. This was a happy moment for Mrs. Penniman; after the
death of her brother she felt more free to obey her impulses. A
vague oppression had disappeared from her life, and she enjoyed a
sense of freedom of which she had not been conscious since the
memorable time, so long ago, when the Doctor went abroad with
Catherine and left her at home to entertain Morris Townsend. The
year that had elapsed since her brother's death reminded her--of that
happy time, because, although Catherine, in growing older, had become
a person to be reckoned with, yet her society was a very different
thing, as Mrs. Penniman said, from that of a tank of cold water. The
elder lady hardly knew what use to make of this larger margin of her
life; she sat and looked at it very much as she had often sat, with
her poised needle in her hand, before her tapestry frame.
Pages:
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252