situation; she saw the daughter get out of the stage, and hurry into the
house for a chair so that the mother might descend more easily. She also
saw a little, white-haired old lady take that opportunity to leap
nimbly, and quite unaided, from the swinging step.

"Now, mother!" expostulated Mary North, chair in hand, and breathless,
"you might have broken your limb! Here, take my arm."

Meekly, after her moment of freedom, the little lady put her hand on
that gaunt arm, and tripped up the path and into the house, where, alas!
Augusta Price lost sight of them. Yet even she, with all her disapproval
of strong-minded ladies, must have admired the tenderness of the
man-o'-war's man. Miss North put her mother into a big chair, and
hurried to bring a dish of curds.

"I'm not hungry," protested Mrs. North.

"Never mind. It will do you good."

With a sigh the little old lady ate the curds, looking about her with
curious eyes. "Why, we're right across the street from the old Price
house!" she said.

"Did you know them, mother?" demanded Miss North.

"Dear me, yes," said Mrs. North, twinkling; "why, I'd forgotten all
about it, but the eldest boy--Now, what was his name? Al--something.
Alfred,--Albert; no, Alfred. He was a beau of mine."

"Mother! I don't think it's refined to use such a word."