Susan Betts frowned.

"Well, _I_ could, I think. But there's a sister of Mr. Burton's--she's
comin'."

"Not Nettie Colebrook?"

"Yes, Mis' Colebrook. That's her name. She's a widow, an' hain't got
anything needin' her. She wrote an' offered, an' Mr. Burton said yes,
if she'd be so kind. An' she's comin'."

"When?"

"Next week. The day the nurse goes. Why? What makes you look so queer?
Do you know--Mis' Colebrook?"

"Know Nettie Burton Colebrook? Well, I should say I did! I went to
boardin'-school with her."

"Humph!" Susan threw a sharp glance into Mrs. McGuire's face. Susan
looked as if she wanted to ask another question. But she did not ask
it. "Humph!" she grunted again; and turned back to the sheet she was
hanging on the line.

There was a brief pause, then Mrs. McGuire commented dryly:

"I notice you ain't doin' no rhymin' to-day, Susan."

"Ain't I? Well, perhaps I ain't. Some way, they don't come out now so
natural an' easy-like."