and then grew pale, until at last she found voice to say, "I greatly
prefer being alone, madam. It annoys me excessively to have any one
round."

"Considerable kind o' touchy," thought Mrs. Nichols, "but then the
poor critter is sick, and I shan't lay it up agin her."

Taking out her snuff-box, she offered it to her daughter, telling her
that "like enough 'twould cure her headache." Mrs. Livingstone's
first impulse was to strike it from her mother's hand, but knowing
how unladylike that would be, she restrained herself, and turning
away her head, replied, "Ugh! no! The very sight of it makes me
sick."

"How you do talk! Wall, I've seen folks that it sarved jest so; but
you'll get over it. Now there was Nancy Scovandyke--did John ever
say anything about her? Wall, she couldn't bear snuff till after her
disappointment--John told you, I suppose?"

"No, madam, my husband has never told me anything concerning his
eastern friends, neither do I wish to hear anything of them,"
returned Mrs. Livingstone, her patience on the point of giving out.

"Never told you nothin' about Nancy Scovandyke! If that don't beat
all! Why, he was----"

She was prevented from finishing the sentence, which would
undoubtedly have raised a domestic breeze, when Anna came to tell her
that the trunks were carried to her room.