At first, Laura was a little shy of the plain-spoken old maid, for whose person, manners, and opinions she had often heard Mrs. Jaynes express, in private, a most bitter dislike. But Statira had been regnant in the Bugbee mansion less than a week, when Laura began to make timid advances towards a mutual good understanding, of which for a while Statira affected to take no heed; for having formed a resolution to maintain a strict reserve towards every inmate of the parsonage, she was not disposed to break it so soon, even in favor of Laura, whose winsome overtures she found it difficult to resist.
“If it wa’n’t for her bein’ Miss Jaynes’s sister,” said she, one day, to Cornelia, who had been praising her friend,—“if it wa’n’t for that one thing, I should like her remarkable well,—a good deal more’n common.”
“Pray, what have you got such a spite against the Jayneses for?” asked Cornelia.
“What do you mean by askin’ such a question as that, Cornele?” said Tira, in a tone of stern reproof. “Who’s got a spite against ’em? Not I, by a good deal! As for the parson himself, he’s a well-meanin’ man, and does as near right as he knows how. If you could say as much as that for everybody, there wouldn’t be any need of parsons any more.”
“But you don’t like Mrs. Jaynes,” persisted Cornelia.
“I ha’n’t got a spite against her, Cornele,—though, I confess, I don’t love the woman,” replied Statira. “But I always treat her well; though, to be sure, I don’t curchy so low and keep smilin’ so much as most folks do, when they meet a minister’s wife and have talk with her. Even when she comes here a-borrowin’ things she knows will be giv’ to her when she asks for ’em, which makes it so near to beggin’ that she ought to be ashamed on’t, which I only give to her because it’s your father’s wish for me to do so, and the things are his’n; but I always treat her well, Cornele.”