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foolish shopping commissions for the idle womenfolk of her family。
Hearing without partisanship her sisters' complaints about their husbands；
and her sisters' husbands' complaints about their wives。 It was always the
same。
〃I'm telling you this； Sophy。 I wouldn't breathe it to another living
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soul。 But I honestly think； sometimes； that if it weren't for the children…
…〃
There is no knowing why they confided these things to Sophy instead
of to each other； these wedded sisters of hers。 Perhaps they held for each
other an unuttered distrust or jealousy。 Perhaps； in making a confidante
of Sophy； there was something of the satisfaction that comes of dropping a
surreptitious stone down a deep well and hearing it plunk； safe in the
knowledge that it has struck no one and that it cannot rebound； lying there
in the soft darkness。 Sometimes they would end by saying； 〃But you
don't know what it is； Sophy。 You can't。 I'm sure I don't know why I'm
telling you all this。〃
But when Sophy answered； sagely； 〃I know； I know；〃 they paid little
heed； once having unburdened themselves。 The curious part of it is that
she did know。 She knew as a woman of fifty must know who； all her life；
has given and given and in return has received nothing。 Sophy Decker
had never used the word inhibition in her life。 She may not have known
what it meant。 She only knew （without in the least knowing she knew）
that in giving of her goods； of her affections； of her time； of her energy；
she found a certain relief。 Her own people would have been shocked if
you had told them that there was about this old…maid aunt something
rather splendidly Rabelaisian。 Without being what is known as a
masculine woman； she had； somehow； acquired the man's viewpoint； his
shrewd value sense。 She ate a good deal； and enjoyed her food。 She did
not care for those queer little stories that married women sometimes tell；
with narrowed eyes； but she was strangely tolerant of what is known as sin。
So simple and direct she was that you wondered how she prospered in a
line so subtle as the millinery business。
You might have got a fairly true characterization of Sophy Decker
from one of fifty people： from a salesman in a New York or Chicago
wholesale millinery house； from Otis Cowan； cashier of the First National
Bank of Chippewa； from Julia Gold； her head milliner and trimmer； from
almost anyone； in fact； except a member of her own family。 They knew
her least of all。 Her three married sistersGrace in Seattle； Ella in
Chicago； and Flora in Chippewaregarded her with a rather affectionate
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disapproval from the snug safety of their own conjugal inglenooks。
〃I don't know。 There's somethingwellcommon about Sophy；〃
Flora confided to Ella。 Flora； on shopping bent； and Sophy； seeking hats；
had made the five…hour run from Chippewa to Chicago together。 〃She
talks to everybody。 You should have heard her with the porter on our
train。 Chums！ And when the conductor took our tickets it was a social
occasion。 You know how packed the seven…fifty…two is。 Every seat in the
parlor car taken。 And Sophy asking the colored porter about how his
wife was getting alongshe called him Williamand if they were going to
send her West； and all about her。 I wish she wouldn't。〃
Aunt Sophy undeniably had a habit of regarding people as human
beings。 You found her talking to chambermaids and delivery boys； and
elevator starters； and gas collectors； and hotel clerksall that aloof；
unapproachable； superior crew。 Under her benign volubility they
bloomed and spread and took on color as do those tight little paper water
flowers when you cast them into a bowl。 It wasn't idle curiosity in her。
She was interested。 You found yourself confiding to her your innermost
longings； your secret tribulations； under the encouragement of her
sympathetic； 〃You don't say！〃 Perhaps it was as well that Sister Flora
was in ignorance of the fact that the millinery salesmen at Danowitz &
Danowitz； Importers； always called Miss Decker Aunt Soph； as； with one
arm flung about her plump shoulder； they revealed to her the picture of
their girl in the back flap of their billfold。
Flora； with a firm grip on Chippewa society； as represented by the East
End set； did not find her position enhanced by a sister in the millinery
business in Elm Street。
〃Of course it's wonderful that she's self…supporting and successful and
all；〃 she told her husband。 〃But it's not so pleasant for Adele； now that
she's growing up； having all the girls she knows buying their hats of her
aunt。 Not that Ibut you know how it is。〃
H。 Charnsworth Baldwin said yes； he knew。
When the Decker girls were young； the Deckers had lived in a sagging
old frame house （from which the original paint had long ago peeled in
great scrofulous patches） on an unimportant street in Chippewa。 There
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was a worm…eaten； russet…apple tree in the yard； an untidy tangle of wild…
cucumber vine over the front porch； and an uncut brush of sunburned
grass and weeds all about。
From May until September you never passed the Decker place without
hearing the plunkety…plink of a mandolin from somewhere behind the
vines； laughter； and the creak…creak of the hard… worked and protesting
hammock hooks。
Flora； Ella； and Grace Decker had had more beaux and fewer clothes
than any other girls in Chippewa。 In a town full of pretty young things；
they were； undoubtedly； the prettiest； and in a family of pretty sisters
（Sophy always excepted） Flora was the acknowledged beauty。 She was
the kind of girl whose nose never turns red on a frosty morning。 A little；
white； exquisite nose； purest example of the degree of perfection which
may be attained by that vulgarest of features。 Under her great gray eyes
were faint violet shadows which gave her a look of almost poignant
wistfulness。 Her slow； sweet smile give the beholder an actual physical
pang。 Only her family knew she was lazy as a behemoth； untidy about
her person； and as sentimental as a hungry shark。 The strange and cruel
part of it was that； in some grotesque； exaggerated way； as a cartoon may
be like a photograph； Sophy resembled Flora。 It was as though nature； in
prankish mood； had given a cabbage the color and texture of a rose； with
none of its fragile reticence and grace。
It was a manless household。 Mrs。 Decker； vague； garrulous； referred
to her dead husband； in frequent reminiscence； as poor Mr。 Decker。 Mrs。
Decker dragged one leg as she walkedrheumatism； or a spinal affection。
Small wonder； then； that Sophy； the plain； with a gift for hatmaking； a
knack at eggless cake baking； and a genius for turning a sleeve so that last
year's style met this year's without a struggle； contributed nothing to the
sag in the center of the old twine hammock on the front porch。
That the three girls should marry well； and Sophy not at all； was as
inevitable as the sequence of the seasons。 Ella and Grace did not manage
badly； considering that they had only their girlish prettiness and the twine
hammock to work with。 But Flora； with her beauty； captured H。
Charnsworth Baldwin。 Chippewa gasped。 H。 Charnsworth Baldwin
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drove a skittish mare to a high…wheeled yellow runabout； had his clothes
made at Proctor