"Does the young one seem likely?" asked Martin with solemn curiosity.

"Fur's I could see," answered his wife promptly, "but nobody took no
great notice of it. Pore Ad'line catched hold of it with such a grip
as she was comin' to that we couldn't git it away from her and had to
fetch'em in both to once. Come urge the beast along, Martin, I'll give
ye the partic'lars to-morrow, I do' know's Ad'line's livin' now. We
got her right to bed's I told you, and I set right off considerin'
that I could git over the ground fastest of any. Mis' Thacher of
course wouldn't leave and Jane's heavier than I be." Martin's smile
was happily concealed by the darkness; his wife and her sister had
both grown stout steadily as they grew older, but each insisted upon
the other's greater magnitude and consequent incapacity for quick
movement. A casual observer would not have been persuaded that there
was a pound's weight of difference between them.

Martin Dyer meekly suggested that perhaps he'd better go in a minute
to see if there was anything Mis' Thacher needed, but Eliza, his wife,
promptly said that she didn't want anything but the doctor as quick as
she could get him, and disappeared up the short lane while the wagon
rattled away up the road. The white mist from the river clung close to
the earth, and it was impossible to see even the fences near at hand,
though overhead there were a few dim stars. The air had grown somewhat
softer, yet there was a sharp chill in it, and the ground was wet and
sticky under foot. There were lights in the bedroom and in the kitchen
of the Thacher house, but suddenly the bedroom candle flickered away
and the window was darkened. Mrs. Martin's heart gave a quick throb,
perhaps Adeline had already died. It might have been a short-sighted
piece of business that she had gone home for her husband.