within a week. The trip," she added, "need cost you nothing, if you
are unable to pay your way."

Aunt Dalmanutha drew herself up proudly.

"I hain't a' object of charity," she said. "If I go, I 'll pay my
way. I got something laid by still from my weaving days. But it
has come on me too sudden'; I feel all lost; I will have to study a
heap before, I can make up my mind." She moved her hands about
before her in a dazed, helpless way.

During the rest of the visit she was silent and distraught. Twice
at dinner her shaking hands knocked over her coffee-cup, and once
the sorghum-pitcher, little fair-haired Evy cleaning up quietly
after her granny, and placing things to her hand so deftly and
furtively that she did not know it was done at all, while on her
other side sat Marthy, ever kind, solicitous, and patient, and at
the far end of the table John vied with her in unobtrusive but
loving attentions to "maw." Never had "the women" seen an elderly
or afflicted person more tenderly and devotedly cared for. But the
object of it all sat rigid, self-absorbed, frowning, as oblivious to
the light and warmth of love as to the light of day, her sole
remarks being contemptuous apologies for Marthy's cooking, and
complaints of the hardship of having to "gum it," or eat without
teeth.


One week later there was a call from the road in front of the school
hospital, and Miss Shippen was pleased and relieved to see Aunt
Dalmanutha mounted on a nag behind John. In her black calico