this ain't jest like you!" she exclaimed. "Creep
in here an' not let anybody know! Why, Jethro, that you? Recognize you!
Well, I guess I should!"

She included them both in a neighborly glance, and Dilly was very
grateful. Yet it seemed to her that now, at last, she might break down
and cry. The tone of olden friendliness was hard to bear, when no other
voices answered. She could endure the silent house, but not the
intercourse of a life so sadly changed.

"There!" continued Mrs. Pike, with a nod, "I guess I know! You're tired
to pieces with this pickin' and sortin', an' you're comin' over to
dinner, both on ye. Eli's dressed a hin. I had to wring her neck. _He_
wouldn't ha' done it; you know that, Dilly! An' I've been beatin' up
eggs. Now don't you say one word. You be there by twelve. Jethro, you
got a watch? You see 't she starts, now!" And Mrs. Pike marched away
victorious, her apron over her head, and waving one hand before her as
she went. She had once been stung by bees, on just such a morning as
this, and she had a set theory that they infested all strange dooryards.

Dilly felt as if even the Joyces could not save her day in its solemn
significance unless, indeed, they should appear in their proper persons.
She thought of her bread and butter and boiled eggs, lying in her little
bundle, and the simple meal seemed as unattainable as if it were some
banquet dreamed of in delirium. It was of one piece with cars going by
the house, and two maid-servants to correct. To Dilly, a car meant a
shrieking monster propelled by steam: yet not even that drove her to
such insanity of revulsion as the two servants. They alone made her
coming life seem like one eternal school, with the committee ever on
the platform, and no recess. But she worked very meekly and soberly, and
Jethro took off his coat and helped her; then, just before twelve, they
washed their hands and went across the orchard to Mrs. Pike's.

The rest of the day seemed to Dilly like a confused though not an
unfamiliar dream. She knew that the dinner was very good, and that it
choked her, so that Mrs. Pike, alert in her first pride of housekeeping,
was quite cordially harsh with her for not eating more; and that Jethro
talked about Chicago; and Eli Pike, older than his wife and graver, said
"Do tell!" now and again, and seemed to picture in his mind the outlines
of city living. She escaped from the table as soon as possible, under
pretext of the work to be don