Hoosiers," "hayseed pikes," nor "northern Yankee scum," and that she
should yet live to see them "holding their own lands again and the lands
of their forefathers." Quieted at last by opiates, she fell into a more
lucid but scarcely less distressing attitude. Recognizing her son again,
as well as her own fast failing condition, she sarcastically thanked
him for coming to "see her off," congratulated him that he would soon be
spared the lie and expense of keeping her here on account of his pride,
under the thin pretext of trying to "cure" her. She knew that Sally
Atherly of Rough and Ready wasn't considered fit company for "Atherly of
Atherly" by his fine new friends. This and much more in a voice mingling
maudlin sentiment with bitter resentment, and with an ominous glitter in
her bloodshot and glairy eyes. Peter winced with a consciousness of the
half-truth of her reproaches, but the curiosity and excitement awakened
by the revelations of her frenzy were greater than his remorse. He said
quickly:--

"You were speaking of father!--of his family--his lands and possessions.
Tell me again!"

"Wot are ye givin' us?" she ejaculated in husky suspicion, opening upon
him her beady eyes, in which the film of death was already gathering.

"Tell me of father,--my father and his family! his
great-grandfather!--the Atherlys, my relations--what you were saying.
What do you know about them?"

"THAT'S all ye wanter know--is it? THAT'S what ye'r' comin' to the old
washer-woman for--is it?" she burst out with the desperation of disgust.
"Well--give it up! Ask me another!"