"Same here, Abby," he said kindly: "whatever you do, Abby, suits _me_
all right."

The worthy couple parted for the morning: Mr. Daggett for the scene
of his activities in the post office and store; Mrs. Daggett to set
her house to rights and prepare for the noon meal, when her Henry
liked to "eat hearty of good, nourishing victuals," after his light
repast of the morning.

"Guess I'll wear my striped muslin," said Mrs. Daggett to herself
happily. "Ain't it lucky it's all clean an' fresh? 'Twill be so cool
to wear out buggy-ridin'."

Mrs. Daggett was always finding occasion for thus reminding herself
of her astonishing good fortune. She had formed the habit of talking
aloud to herself as she worked about the house and garden.

"'Tain't near as lonesome, when you can hear the sound of a voice--if
it is only your own," she apologized, when rebuked for the practice
by her friend Mrs. Maria Dodge. "Mebbe it does sound kind of crazy--
You say lunatics does it constant--but, I don't know, Maria, I've a
kind of a notion there's them that hears, even if you can't see 'em.
And mebbe they answer, too--in your thought-ear."

"You want to be careful, Abby," warned Mrs. Dodge, shaking her head.
"It makes the chills go up and down my back to hear you talk like
that; and they don't allow no such doctrines in the church."

"The Apostle Paul allowed 'em," Mrs. Daggett pointed out, "so did the
Psalmist. You read your Bible, Maria, with that in mind, and you'll