ort of permissive invitation to
look about the whole lower floor, ending with the kitchen.

Mrs. Lander sat down there while Mrs. Claxon drew from the pipes a glass
of water, which she proudly explained was pumped all over the house by
the wind mill that supplied the power for her husband's turning lathes.

"Well, I wish mah husband could have tasted that wata," said Mrs. Lander,
as if reminded of husbands by the word, and by the action of putting down
the glass. "He was always such a great hand for good, cold wata. My! He'd
'a liked youa kitchen, Mrs. Claxon. He always was such a home-body, and
he did get so ti'ed of hotels. For all he had such an appearance, when
you see him, of bein'--well!--stiff and proud, he was fah moa common in
his tastes--I don't mean common, exactly, eitha--than what I was; and
many a time when we'd be drivin' through the country, and we'd pass some
o' them long-strung-out houses, don't you know, with the kitchen next to
the wood shed, and then an ahchway befoa you get to the stable, Mr. Landa
he'd get out, and make an urrand, just so's to look in at the kitchen
dooa; he said it made him think of his own motha's kitchen. We was both
brought up in the country, that's a fact, and I guess if the truth was
known we both expected to settle down and die thea, some time; but now
he's gone, and I don't know what'll become o' me, and sometimes I don't
much care. I guess if Mr. Landa'd 'a seen youa kitchen, it wouldn't 'a'
been so easy to git him out of it; and I do believe if he's livin'
anywhe' now he takes as much comfo't in my settin' here as what I do. I
presume I shall settle down somewhe's before a great while, and if you
could make up youa mind to let your daughta come to me for a little visit
till spring, you couldn't do a thing that 'd please Mr. Landa moa."

Mrs. Claxon said that she would talk it over with the child's father; and
then Mrs. Lander pressed her to let her take Clementina back to the
Middlemount with her for supper, if they wouldn't let her stay the night.
After Clementina had driven away, Mrs. Claxon accused herself to her
husband of being the greatest fool in the State, but he said that the
carriage was one of the Middlemount rigs, and he guessed it was all
right. He could see that Clem was wild to go, and he didn't see why she
shouldn't.

"Well, I do, then," his wife retorted. "We don't know anything about the
woman, or who she is."

"I guess no harm'll come to Clem for o