nice-appearin' woman, Lizzie, yet. No; I ain't one to flatter; you
_be_. And ain't he a man? and a likely man, too, for all he's
crazy. Course they'd talk! Now, Lizzie, don't you get to figgerin' on
this. It's just like you! How many cats have you got on your hands
now? I bet you're feedin' that lame dog yet."

Mrs. Graham laughed, but would not say.

"Nat will get along at the Farm real good, after he gets used to it,"
Mrs. Butterfield went on, coaxingly; "Dean ain't hard. And Mis' Dean's
many a time told me what a good table they set."

"'Tain't the victuals that would trouble Nat May."

"Well, Lizzie, now you promise me you won't think anything more about
him visitin' you?" Mrs. Butterfield looked at her anxiously.

"I guess Jonesville knows me, after I've lived here all my life!"
Lizzie said, evasively.

"Knows you?" Mrs. Butterfield said; "what's that got to do with it?
You know Jonesville; that's more to the point."

"It's a mean place!" Lizzie said, angrily.

"I'm not sayin' it ain't," Mrs. Butterfield agreed. "Well, Lizzie,
you're good, but you ain't real sensible," she ended, affectionately.

Lizzie laughed, and swung her gate shut. She stood leaning on it a
minute, looking after Mrs. Butterfield laboriously climbing the hill,