"Mebbee-an' mebbee not."

"You brought home a large parcel," said Ajax. "A precious parcel. Why,
you held it as a woman holds her first baby."

She smiled, and bade us good-night.

"I've no call ter stan' aroun' gassin'," she assured us. "I've work
ter do--a plenty of it, too."

During the month of October she spent all her leisure hours locked up
in her own room; and, waiting upon us at meals, quoted freely that
famous book--_A Golden Word from Mother_. We often heard her
singing softly to herself, keeping time to the click of her needle.
When pay-day came she demanded leave of absence. The village, she told
us, was sadly behind the times, and with our permission she proposed
to drive her mule and buckboard to the county seat--San Lorenzo.

"I've business of importance," she said proudly, "ter transack."

She returned the following evening with a larger parcel than the
first.

"I've bought a bonnet," she confessed shyly, "an' trimmins."

We prevailed upon her to show us these purchases: white satin ribbon,
jet, and a feather that might have graced the hat of the Master of
Ravenswood. The "locating" of this splendid plume was no easy task.