"Well!"

Lucindy rose suddenly and brushed her lap, as if she dusted away
imaginary cares.

"There!" she exclaimed, "I've said more this mornin' than I have for
forty year! Don't you lead me on to talk about what's past and gone!
The only thing is, I mean to have a good time now, what there is left
of it. Some things you can't get back, and some you can. Well, you step
round this afternoon, won't you?"

"I dunno's I can. John's goin' to bring Claribel up, to spend the
arternoon an' stay to supper."

"Why, dear heart! that needn't make no difference. I should admire to
have her, too. I'll show her some shells and coral I found this
mornin', up attic."

Lucindy had almost reached the street when she turned, as with a sudden
resolution, and retraced her steps.

"Jane," she called, looking in at the kitchen window. "It's a real
bright day, pretty as any 't ever I see. Don't you worry for fear o' my
disturbin' them that's gone, if I do try to ketch at somethin'
pleasant. If they're wiser now, I guess they'll be glad I had sense
enough left to do it!"

That afternoon, Mrs. Wilson, in her best gingham and checked sunbonnet,
took her way along the village street to the old Judge Wilson house. It
was a colonial mansion, sitting austerely back in a square yard. In