stylish. She did look awful pretty in it, with her arms and neck
showing through. I like black myself; but mourning--that's different.
Poor young thing, I wonder who it was. Her father, mebbe, or her
mother. You didn't happen to hear her say, did you, Phoebe?"

Mrs. Solomon Black compressed her lips tightly. She paused at her own
gate with majestic dignity.

"I guess I'll have to hurry right in, Abby," said she. "I have my
bread to set."

Mrs. Solomon Black had closed her gate behind her, noticing as she
did so that Wesley Elliot and Lydia Orr had disappeared from the
piazza where she had left them. She glanced at Mrs. Daggett,
lingering wistfully before the gate.

"Goodnight, Abby," said she firmly.




Chapter VI


Mrs. Maria Dodge sifted flour over her molding board preparatory to
transferring the sticky mass of newly made dough from the big yellow
mixing bowl to the board. More flour and a skillful twirl or two of
the lump and the process of kneading was begun. It continued
monotonously for the space of two minutes; then the motions became
gradually slower, finally coming to a full stop.