to. Now, Mis' Penny, where do you s'pose, where do you s'pose that
child is?" Then, without waiting for a reply, she plunged headlong
into the stream of talk.

"No, we ain't heard a word. Vesta went off a week ago, and Mr. De
Arthenay with her. Providential, wasn't it, his happenin' along just
in the nick o' time? I do get out of patience with Rejoice sometimes,
takin' the Lord quite so much for granted as she doos; for, after all,
the child was stole, you can't get over that, and seems's though if
there'd ben such a good lookout as she thinks,--well, there! I don't
want to be profane; but I will say 'twas a providence, Mr. De Arthenay
happenin' along. Well, they went, and not a word have we heard sence
but just one letter from Vesta, sayin' they hadn't found no trace yet,
but they hoped to every day,--and land sakes, we knew that, I should
hope. Dr. Brown comes in every day to cheer her up, though I do
declare I need it more than she doos, seems's though. He's as close as
an oyster, Dr. Brown is; I can't even get the news out of him, most
times. How's that boy of 'Bind Parker's,--him that fell and hurt his
leg so bad? Gettin' well, is he?"

"No, he isn't," said Mrs. Penny, stepping in quickly on the question,
as her first chance of getting in a word. "He's terrible slim; I heard
Doctor say so. They're afraid of the kangaroo settin' in in the j'int,
and you know that means death, sartin sure."

Both women nodded, drawing in their breath with an awful relish.

"'T will be a terrible loss to his mother," said Mandy Loomis. "Such a
likely boy as he was gettin' to be, and 'Bind so little good, one way
and another."