as I said prior and before, that in two hours' time he would be jest as
good as the very best kind of pie, affectionate, and even spoony, if I
would allow spoons, which I will not the most of the time). Wall, she
proposed, Miss Fogg did, that she should ride back with the livery man.
And though I urged her to stay till night, I couldn't urge her as hard
as I would otherwise, for by that time the head of the procession of
visitors had reached the door-step, and I had to meet 'em with smiles.

[Illustration: "SHE PROPOSED THAT SHE SHOULD RIDE BACK WITH THE LIVERY
MAN."]

I smiled some, I thought I must. But they wuz curius smiles, very,
strange-lookin' smiles, sort o' gloomy ones, and mournful lookin'. I
have got lots of different smiles that I keep by me for different
occasions, every woman has, and this wuz one of my most mournfulest and
curiusest ones.

Wall, the author of "Wedlock's Peaceful and Perfect Repose" insisted on
goin', and she went. And I sez to her as she went down the steps, "That
if she would come up some other day when I didn't have quite so much
work round, I would be as good as my word to her about hearin' her
rehearse the lecture."

But she said, as she hurried out to the gate, lookin' pale an' wan (as
wan agin as she did when she came, if not wanner): "That she should make
_changes_ in it before she ever rehearsed it agin--_deep changes_!"

And I should dare to persume to say that she did. Though, as I say, she
went off most awful sudden, and I hadn't seen nor heard from her sence
till I got this letter.