shrubbery, fine old trees, and beds of blossoming flowers. Within, Mrs.
Martin was nervously awaiting her visitor's knock. She had taken off her
kitchen apron and smoothed her hair down with her hands. But no knock
was heard, for Mrs. Williams placidly continued her survey of the house
and its surroundings, until the voice of her hostess interrupted her.

"Why, Mrs. Williams! Have you been standin' out here all this time? I
must be losin' my hearin' when I can't hear a person knockin' at the
door."

"Nothin's the matter with your hearin'," responded Mrs. Williams,
following her hostess into the shady parlor; "I hadn't knocked."

She seated herself in a rocking-chair that suited her generous
proportions and began looking at the inside of the house with the same
business-like scrutiny she had given the outside.

"We're havin' some pleasant weather now," said Mrs. Martin, by way of a
conversational beginning.

"Mighty pleasant weather," said Mrs. Williams, "but I came here this
mornin' to talk about somethin' a good deal more important than the
weather."

Long acquaintance had never wholly accustomed Mrs. Martin to the
straightforward bluntness that was known as "Sarah Williams' way", and a
look of apprehension and faint alarm crossed her worn, delicate face.

"Oh! I hope there's nothin' wrong," she said.

Apparently Mrs. Williams did not hear the gently uttered words. There
was a look of stern determination on her face, and she drove straight on
toward an objective point unknown to her listener.

"Do you know, Mrs. Martin," she asked, "how long your Henry has been
courtin' my Anna Belle?"

Mrs. Martin looked bewildered.

"Why, no," she said, hesitatingly. "I don't believe I ever thought about
it."

"Well," said Mrs. Williams with grave emphasis, "it's exactly one year
and a month, come next Wednesday. I know, because the first time Henry
ever come home from prayer-meetin' with Anna Belle was the day after I
fell down the cellar stairs and broke my wrist, and I'm not likely to
forget when that was. One year and one month! Now, of course, I know a
certain amount of courtin' is all right and proper. It's just as
necessary to court before you marry as it is to say grace before you
eat; but suppose you sit down to the table and say your grace over and
over again, till mealtime's past, and it's pretty near time for the next
meal? Why, when you open your eyes and start to eat, everything 'll be
cold, and most lik