When she reached the cross-road she met Doctor
John driving in. He tightened the reins on the
sorrel and stopped.

"Lovely afternoon, Miss Gossaway. Where are
you from--looking at the sunset?"

"No, I ain't got no time for spoonin'. I might
be if I was Miss Jane and Bart Holt. Just see 'em
a spell ago squattin' down behind the House o'
Refuge. She wouldn't look at me. I been to
Fogarty's; she's on my list this week, and it's my day
for visitin', fust in two weeks. That two-year-old
of hers is all right ag'in after your sewing him up;
they'll never get over tellin' how you set up all night
with him. You ought to hear Mrs. Fogarty go on--
'Oh, the goodness of him!'" and she mimicked the
good woman's dialect. "'If Tod'd been his own
child he couldn't a-done more for him.' That's the
way she talks. I heard, doctor, ye never left him till
daylight. You're a wonder."

The doctor touched his hat and drove on.

Miss Gossaway's sharp, rasping voice and incisive
manner of speaking grated upon him. He liked
neither her tone nor the way in which she spoke
of the mistress of Yardley. No one else dared as
much. If Jane was really on the beach and with