I ain't got used to
it here, much. It's kind o' lonesome, days. I s'pose you don't mind it.
It's different if you're used to it, I guess."

Somehow Druse did not feel as timid as usual, though her weak little
voice, thin, like the rest of her, faltered a trifle, but then she had
never called on a lady so magnificently dressed before.

"Yes, I'm pretty well used to it by this," replied Miss De Courcy, with
the same joyless little laugh, giving the lace skirt an absent-minded
kick with her red morocco toe. "I lived in the country before--when I
was little."

"You did!" exclaimed Druse. "Then I guess you know how it is at first.
When you think every Friday night (there ain't been but two, yet)
'There, they're gettin' ready for Lodge meetin';' and every Sunday
evenin' 'bout half-past seven: 'I guess it's mos' time for the Meth'dis'
bell to ring. I must get my brown felt on, and--'"

"Your what?" asked Miss De Courcy.

"My brown felt, my hat, an'--oh! well, there's lots o' things I kind o'
forget, and start to get ready for. An' I can't sleep much on account of
not having Bell an' Virey an' Mimy to bed with me. It's so lonesome
without 'em. The children here won't sleep with me. I did have Gusty one
night, but I woke her up four times hangin' on to her. I'm so used to
holding Mimy in! Oh! I guess I'll get over it all right, but you know
how it is yourself."

Miss De Courcy did not reply. She had closed her eyes, and now she gave
the bandage on her head an angry twich. "_Oh_, how it aches!" she said
through her shut teeth. "Here, give me that bottle on the stand, will
you? It'll make it worse, but _I_ don't care. My doctor's medicine
don't seem to do me much good, but I sort of keep on taking it," she
said to Druse, grandly as she poured out a brownish liquid into the
cloudy glass that the good little housekeeper had eyed dubiously, before
giving it to her.

Miss De Courcy's doctor evidently believed in stimulants; a strong odor
of Scotch whiskey filled the room.

"It smells quite powerful, does'nt it?" she said. "It has something in
it to keep it, you know. It's very unpleasant to take," she added,
rolling up her brown eyes to Druse's compassionate face.

"I do' know as it would do you any good, prob'ly it wouldn't," said
Druse shyly, shifting the glass from one hand to the other, "but I used
to stroke Ma's head lots, when she had a chance to set down, and it
ached bad."

Miss De Courcy promptly stretched hersel