clumsy dignity. She was tall and narrow-shouldered, but heavy-hipped;
her black skirt flounced as she walked. She stopped in front of Lois,
and looked at her hesitatingly. Lois arose.

"Good-mornin'," said the woman. Her voice was gentle; she cleared her
throat a little after she spoke.

"Good-morning," returned Lois, faintly.

"Is Mis' Maxwell to home?"

Lois stared at her.

"Is Mis' Maxwell to home? I heard she'd come here to live," repeated
the woman, in a deprecating way. She smoothed down the folds of her
over-skirt. Lois started; the color spread over her face and neck.
"No, she isn't at home," she said sharply.

"Do you know when she will be?"

"No, I don't."

The woman's face also was flushed. She turned about with a little
flirt, when suddenly a door slammed somewhere in the house. The woman
faced about, with a look of indignant surprise.

Lois said nothing. She opened the front door and went into the house,
straight through to the kitchen, where her mother was preparing
breakfast. "There's a woman out there," she said.