and raised her handkerchief to her eyes.

"I was afraid you'd--"

"Well, of course I ain't scared of you, Abby," relented Mrs. Black.
"But I says to myself, 'I'm goin' to let Lydia Orr stand on her two
own feet in this town,' I says. She can say what she likes about
herself, an' there won't be no lies coming home to roost at _my_
house. I guess you'd feel the very same way if you was in my place,
Abby."

Mrs. Daggett glanced with childish admiration at the other woman's
magenta-tinted face under its jetty water-waves. Even Mrs. Black's
everyday hat was handsomer than her own Sunday-best.

"You always was so smart an' sensible, Phoebe," she said mildly. "I
remember 'way back in school, when we was both girls, you always
could see through arithmetic problems right off, when I couldn't for
the life of me. I guess you're right about letting her speak for
herself."

"Course I am!" agreed Mrs. Black triumphantly.

She had extricated herself from a difficulty with flying colors. She
would still preserve her reputation for being a close-mouthed woman
who knew a lot more about everything than she chose to tell.

"Anybody can see she's wearing mournin'," she added benevolently.

"Oh, I thought mebbe she had a black dress on because they're