"She was a farmer's daughter, and a farmer's widow. I suppose the chief
difference in her mode of life was that she lived in a cottage instead of a
good-sized farmhouse."

"But what is the story you have to tell us?"

"I'm coming to that when you have done with your questions."

"We have done, papa."

"After talking awhile, during which she went bustling a little about the
cottage, in order to hide her feelings, as I thought, for she has a good
deal of her mother's sense of dignity about her,--but I want your mother to
hear the story. Run and fetch her, Wynnie."

"O, do make haste, Wynnie," said Connie.

When Ethelwyn came, I went on.

"Miss Aylmer was bustling a little about the cottage, putting things to
rights. All at once she gave a cry of surprise, and said, 'Here it is, at
last!' She had taken up a stuff dress of her mother's, and was holding it
in one hand, while with the other she drew from the pocket--what do you
think?"

Various guesses were hazarded.

"No, no--nothing like it. I know you _could_ never guess. Therefore it
would not be fair to keep you trying. A great iron horseshoe. The old woman