olor--or what number. I just want some Boston cotton, and I want to see
you settin' out to get it pretty promptly to-morrow morning."

"But if you only want some cotton," Arethusa yelled, with a force which
sent crimson waves all over her, "why can't I get it in the village?"

Aunt Mary shot one look at her niece and the latter felt the concussion.

"Because--I--want--you--to--get--it--in--Boston," she said, filling the breaks
between her words with a concentrated essence of acerbity such as even she
had never displayed before. "When I say a thing, I mean it pretty
generally. Quite often--most always. I want that cotton and it's to be
bought in Boston. There's a train that goes in at seven-forty-five, and if
you don't favor the idea of ridin' on it you can take the express that
goes by at six-five."

Arethusa pressed her hands very tightly together and carried the
discussion no further. She went to bed early and rose early the next
morning and Joshua drove her in town to the seven-forty-five.

"It doesn't seem to me that my aunt is very well," the niece said during
the drive. "What do you think?"

"I don't think anything about her," said Joshua with great candor. "If I
was to give to thinkin' I'd o' moved out to Chicago an' been scalpin'
Indians to-day."

"I wonder if that trip to New York was good for her?" Arethusa wondered
mildly.

Joshua flicked Billy with the whip and refused to voice any opinion as to
New York's effect on his mistress.

Arethusa was well on her way to Boston when Aunt Mary's bell, rung with a
sharp jangle, summoned Lucinda to open her bedroom blinds. While Lucinda
was leaning far out and attempting to cause said blinds to catch on the
hooks, which habitually held them back against the side of the house, her
mistress addressed her with a suddeness which showed that she had awakened
with her wits surprisingly well in hand.

"Where's Joshua? Is he got back from Arethusa? Answer me, Lucinda."

Lucinda drew herself in through the open window with an alacrity
remarkable for one of her years.

"Yes, he's back," she yelled.

Aunt Mary looked at her with a sort of incensed patience.

"Well, what's he doin'? If he's back, where is he? Lucinda, if you knew
how hard it is for me to keep quiet you'd answer when I asked things. Why
in Heaven's name don't you say suthin'? Anythin'? Anythin' but nothin',
that is."

"He's mowin'," Lucinda shrieked.

"Sewin'!" exclaimed Aunt Mary. "What's he sewi