ough till I
get 'round again, an' I could ha' bossed _him_." Then, after a moment:
"But I can't boss the deacon."

"No, you poor old grumbler! I reckon he isn't that kind. And your
judgment of your neighbors is a bit extreme. Never mind. It's such a
good sign to hear you scold that I'm encouraged to think you'll soon be
well again. Now I'll go down and be ready to open the door for Susanna
and Katharine. It's terrible to have them exposed to this storm."

But there was nobody visible, and at length Miss Eunice felt assured
that she should not see them till the tempest lulled. So she returned
once more to the kitchen-chamber, to comfort its occupant and herself as
well. She had just remarked, for the third time:

"No! I'm sure Elinor would never let them set out in such weather as
this. She has kept them to supper, and I do hope Susanna will have
forethought enough to decline the ham and bread she carried for Monty,
and confine herself to whatever the family was to have had by itself.
Susanna is very hearty, I'm glad to say--"

"Eats so much it makes her thin to carry it around!" growled Moses,
interrupting. "As for Montgomery, that little shaver's never had--"

What he would have added is not known.

Out upon the kitchen stairs sounded the rush of sodden feet, which
seemed to stumble from sheer weariness even in their maddened haste; and
the next instant there burst into the room what looked like a wretched
caricature of poor Susanna. Bonnetless and spectacle-less, her gray hair
streaming in snake-like strands, her garments dripping pools, her fine
black Sunday shawl trailing behind her like a splash of flowing ink, she
dropped upon the floor gasping and sobbing, and, apparently, at her
wits' end.

A second's hesitation at touching so draggled and dripping a creature
held Eunice aloof; and then she was down beside her friend, wiping the
rain-wet face and begging to be told what had befallen.

"Surely, something worse than a storm has brought you to this pass, my
poor dear. You look frightened--you tremble--You--Oh, Susanna! Where is
Katharine? Has harm happened her?"

"Her? 'Tain't her! It's me. It's come at last, an' I always--knew--it
would. Oh, say! Am I alive or--or--dead?"

Then as the absurdity of her own question flashed upon her, she began to
laugh hysterically, and soon to sob with equal fervor. She was wholly
overdone and unnerved, and, realizing that nothing could be learned till
she was calmer, h