She shook her head. "Not me."

"But why not? What makes you say
that?" I persisted.

Lena laughed. "Well, it's mainly because I
don't want a husband. Men are all right for
friends, but as soon as you marry them they
turn into cranky old fathers, even the wild
ones. They begin to tell you what's sensible
and what's foolish, and want you to stick at
home all the time. I prefer to be foolish when
I feel like it, and be accountable to nobody."

"But you'll be lonesome. You'll get tired
of this sort of life, and you'll want a family."

"Not me. I like to be lonesome. When I
went to work for Mrs. Thomas I was nine-
teen years old, and I had never slept a night
in my life when there weren't three in the
bed. I never had a minute to myself except
when I was off with the cattle."

Usually, when Lena referred to her life in
the country at all, she dismissed it with a
single remark, humorous or mildly cynical.
But tonight her mind seemed to dwell on
those early years. She told me she couldn't
remember a time when she was so little that
she wasn't lugging a heavy baby about, help-
ing to wash for babies, trying to keep their

[[329]]

p328 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p329w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p330

v?