grass of the
little garden, to bid them welcome, and at the door they were met by
the mistress of the house, who had heard their footsteps.

Mrs. Kump was a large-boned woman of medium height; her complexion was
of golden bronze; the flesh had fallen, giving her cheeks a square set,
and her dark eyes gleamed brightly beneath a broad wrinkled brow; a cap
of black lace surmounted her head, a white net fichu was crossed on her
breast and fastened with a cameo pin in a wide gold frame, and her
dress was of silver gray.

She led the way into the little sitting-room and drew aside the muslin
half-curtains. Through the open window came the murmur of the running
stream, the scent of pennyroyal, and the rays of the setting sun.

A striped rag carpet covered the floor and the walls, with gorgeous
papering of flowers and vines, were hung with many old fashioned
pictures.

There was the Lord's Prayer in an intricate design of crimson and gold,
a framed sampler and motto, and smaller pictures in square and oval
frames; these for the most part friends and relatives of the owner,
their pictured features shadowed and dimmed by time.

In the middle of the room a square table with a red, woolen cover, held
a half-dozen books cross-cornered one upon the other in several groups;
a glass lamp filled with red-colored water and oil stood in the center,
the top covered with a paper shade and the bottom swathed in a woolen
mat.

A high, wooden mantel, painted black, occupied the other end of the
room; the fireplace was hidden by a square, cambric screen, with a
cut-out picture of fruit and flowers pasted in the center. Nettie's
glance was immediately taken by a white marble book, with yellow
painted edges and clasps, lying upon the old glass-knobbed bureau.

Mrs. Kump drew the straight-backed rattan rocker to the open window,
giving it a hurried dusting with her black silk apron, and invited Mrs.
Lee to be seated.

Then, as she noticed her visitor looking at the quilting frames which
occupied one end of the room, she said,

"You'll think I'm slighting your quilt, Mis' Lee!--I got so far back on
the job, with my poor legs bothering me so! But sez I to myself, 'I'll
try and catch up on Thursday,' but when I went to the door this mornin'
and found the good fairies' offerings, I fairly wilted. I made up my
mind to keep the day, and I'm keepin' it; I haven't done a stroke of
work!"

Mrs. Lee looked interested.

"The day--yes--I b