The Covert of Wings

And why should I have been hurt that the surety in my heart had not
declared itself to them without words? So wonderful did it seem to me
that I thought it must be in my every word and deed and look and I was
confounded that as yet I was considered to be an outsider and not
entitled to plan for the ceremonial of the dedication of the material
fold for the Reverend Mr. Goodloe's flock. And then suddenly my hurt was
swept away by my sense of humor and I laughed to myself when I saw that
to Mother Spurlock, who had hungered and thirsted for my conversion, I
would have to prove it, tell it and repeat it.

"Instead of the festal ceremonies in the dedication Mr. Goodloe is going
to have the simplest dedication ritual and then immediately hold the
memorial services for our--our dead," said Mother Spurlock, as she took
Martha's hand in hers and stroked it. "We want everybody to be there and
I could use a few more of those trunks full of colored new clothes,
Charlotte. The people down in the Settlement can use and wear after a
dye pot when you can't, bless your sweet heart," and as she made her
ruling request, which was still strong in death, she stroked the fold of
dull black silk over my knee which was cut from the same material as
the straight black widow's gown which Martha wore.

"Make Martha buy you some things for some of them," I said lightly and
watched Martha as I spoke. She had never by word or deed showed that she
felt anything but adoringly dependent on me and my bounty, and had put
the check book I had given her from Mr. Cockrell away in my desk without
looking at it. I could see that my words both hurt and shocked her.