somehow. What I could earn sewin' helped, and we lived simple. But when
he was taken down and died, the doctor's bills and the undertaker's used
up what little money I had put by, and the sewin' alone wouldn't keep
a healthy canary in bird seed. Dear land knows I hate to leave the old
house I've lived in for fourteen years and the town I was born in, but
I've got to, for all I see. Thank mercy, I can pay Cap'n Elkanah his
last month's rent and go with a clear conscience. I won't owe anybody,
that's a comfort, and nobody will owe me; though I could stand that, I
guess," she added, prying at the carpet edge.

"I don't care!" The girl's dark eyes flashed indignantly. "I think it's
too bad of Cap'n Elkanah to turn you out when--"

"Don't talk that way. He ain't turnin' me out. He ain't lettin' houses
for his health and he'll need the money to buy his daughter's summer
rigs. She ain't had a new dress for a month, pretty near, and here's
a young and good-lookin' parson heavin' in sight. Maybe Cap'n Elkanah
would think a minister was high-toned enough even for Annabel to marry."

"He's only twenty-three, they say," remarked Grace, a trifle
maliciously. "Perhaps she'll adopt him."

Annabel was the only child of Captain Elkanah Daniels, who owned the
finest house in town. She was the belle of Trumet, and had been for a
good many years.

Keziah laughed.

"Well," she said, "anyhow I've got to go. Maybe I'll like Boston first
rate, you can't tell. Or maybe I won't. Ah, hum! 'twouldn't be the first