Visiting over the fence is an occupation
in which any woman may indulge without fear of unkind criticism. If
she takes occasion to run in next door, she is of course leaving the
house which she ought to be keeping, but she can lean on the fence all
day without feeling derelict as to a single duty. Then, too, there is
something about the situation which produces a species of agreeable
subconsciousness that one is at once at home and abroad. It followed
that Susan and Mrs. Lathrop each wore a path from her kitchen door to
the trysting-spot, and that all summer long they met there early and
late.
Mrs. Lathrop did the listening while she chewed clover. Just beyond
her woodpile red clover grew luxuriantly, and when she started for the
place of meeting it was her invariable custom to stop and pull a
number of blossoms so that she might eat the tender petals while
devoting her attention to the business in hand.
It must be confessed that the business in hand was nearly always Miss
Clegg's business, but since Mrs. Lathrop, in her position of
experienced adviser, was deeply interested in Susan's exposition of
her own affairs, that trifling circumstance appeared of little moment.
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