s, thoughtfully.

"When the nurse came," the sister Serene continued, "the widow went
to a desk and wrote a letter and brought it to Dick. Then says the
widow, says she: 'You take this to my uncle in Boston. If you can
make him give his consent, I'd be glad to see you again.'

"Dick, he rushed off that very evening an' took the cars at Madrid.
What do you suppose the letter said?"

The sister Serene began to shake with laughter.

"What?" was the eager demand of the two sisters.

"Well, the widow told the nurse and she told Mary Jones and Mary
told me. The letter was kind o' short and about like this:--

"'Pardon me for introducing a scamp by the name of Roberts. He's
engaged to a very sweet young lady and has the impudence to make
love to me. I wish to get him out of this town for a while, and
can't think of any better way. Don't use him too roughly. He was
a detective once himself.'

"Well, in a couple of days the widow got a telegraph message from
her uncle, an' what do you suppose it said?"

The sister Serene covered her face and began to quiver. The other
two were leaning toward her, smiling, their mouths open.

"What was it?" said the sister Lize.

"'Kicked him downstairs,'" the narrator quoted.

"Y!" the two whispered.

"Good enough for him." It was the verdict of the little
shopkeeper, sharply spoken, as she went on with her work.

"So I say,"--this from the other three, who were now quite serious.

"He'd better not come back here," said the sister Lize.

"He never will, probably."

"Who employed the widow?"

"Nobody knows," said the sister Serene. "Before she left town she
had a check cashed, an' it come from Riley Brooke. Some think
Martha Vaughn herself knows all about it. Sh-h-h! there goes
Sidney Trove."

"Ain't he splendid looking?" said she with the beads.

Ruth Tole had opened the door, and they were now observing the
street and those who were passing in it.

"One of these days there'll be some tall love-making up there at
the Widow Vaughn's," said she that was called Lize.

"Like to be behind the door"--this from her with the beads.

"I wouldn't," said the sister Serene.

"No, you wouldn't!"

"I'd rather be up next to the young man." A merry laugh, and then a
sigh from the sister Lize, who looked a bit dreamy and began to
tickle her head with a knitting-needle.

"What are you sighing for?" said she with the beads,

"Oh, well," said the other, yawning, "it mak