"She's a woman," he muttered, "and I'll say nothing rude or ugly to her, but I
shan't listen to her talk half a minute when I can help myself; and if she
won't do any thing but talk--well, we'll see, we'll see! A few hours in the
dairy will show whether she can use anything besides her tongue."

As soon as they were alone Jane turned sharply on her mother and said, "Now
you've got to do something to help. At Cousin Lemuel's and other places they
wouldn't let us help. Anyhow, they wouldn't let me. He 'spects us both to
work, and pays you for it. I tell you agin, he won't let us stay here unless
we do. I won't go visitin' round any more, feelin' like a stray cat in every
house I go to. You've got to work, and talk less."

"Why, Jane! How YOU talk!"

"I talk sense. Come, help me get breakfast."

"Do you think that's a proper way for a child to address a parent?"

"No matter what I think. Come and help. You'll soon know what he thinks if
we keep breakfast waitin'."

"Well, I'll do such menial work until he gets a girl, and then he shall learn
that he can't expect one with such respecterble connections--"

"Hope I may never see any of 'em agin," interrupted Jane shortly, and then she
relapsed into silence while her mother rambled on in her characteristic way,
making singularly inapt efforts to assist in the task before them.

As Holcroft rose from milking a cow he found Jane beside him. A ghost could