smoothing her apron, "and she lives down the road a piece, in the
valley as, you may say. She don't never go nowheres, Miss Ainslie
don't, but folks goes to see her. She's got a funny house--I've
been inside of it sometimes when I've been down on errands for
Miss Hathaway. She ain't got no figgered wall paper, nor no lace
curtains, and she ain't got no rag carpets neither. Her floors is
all kinder funny, and she's got heathen things spread down
onto'em. Her house is full of heathen things, and sometimes she
wears'em."

"Wears what, Hepsey? The'heathen things' in the house?"

"No'm. Other heathen things she's got put away somewheres. She's
got money, I guess, but she's got furniture in her parlour that's
just like what Miss Hathaway's got set away in the attic. We
wouldn't use them kind of things, nohow," she added complacently.

"Does she live all alone?"

"Yes'm. Joe, he does her errands and other folks stops in
sometimes, but Miss Ainslie ain't left her front yard for I d'
know how long. Some says she's cracked, but she's the best
housekeeper round here, and if she hears of anybody that's sick
or in trouble, she allers sends'em things. She ain't never been
up here, but Miss Hathaway, she goes down there sometimes, and
she'n Miss Ainslie swaps cookin' quite regler. I have to go down
there with a plate of somethin' Miss Hathaway's made, and Miss
Ainslie allers says: 'Wait just a moment, please, Hepsey, I would
like to send Miss Hathaway a jar of my preserves.'"