Not that he was uncouth
to begin with,--far from it. He had been irritatingly fastidious
from boyhood up. His thoughts had wandered afar on frequent journeys,
and when they came back to take up the dull occupation they had
abandoned temporarily, they were broader than when they went out to
gather wool. The strong, well-poised English wife found rich soil
in which to work; he grew apace and flourished, and manifold were
the innovations that stirred a complacent community into actual
unrest. A majority of the farmers and virtually all of the farmers'
wives were convinced that Dave Windom was losing his mind, the way
he was letting that woman boss him around.
The women did not like her. She was not one of them and never
could be one of them. Her "hired girls" became "servants" the day
she entered the ugly old farmhouse on the ridge. They were no longer
considered members of the family; they were made to feel something
they had never felt before in their lives: that they were not their
mistress's equals.
The "hired girl" of those days was an institution. As a rule, she
moved in the same social circle as the lady of the house and it
was customary for her to intimately address her mistress by her
Christian name. She enjoyed the right to engage in all conversations;
she was, in short, "as good as anybody." The new Mrs. Windom was
not long in transporting the general housework "girl" into a totally
unexampled state of astonishment.
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