Louisa. Shake hands with your aunt, Jack."

"He can't till I'm through sweeping. Good-morning, John; what brings you
here?"

John sat down on the steps, and Jack flew to the barn, where there
was generally an amiable hired man and a cheerful cow, both infinitely
better company than his highly respected and wealthy aunt.

"I came because I had to bring the boy to the only relation I've got in
the world," John answered tersely. "My wife's left me."

"Well, she's been a great while doing it," remarked Louisa, digging
her broom into the cracks of the piazza floor and making no pause for
reflection. "If she had n't had the patience of Job and the meekness of
Moses, she'd have gone long before. Where'd she go?"

"I don't know; she did n't say."

"Did you take the trouble to look through the house for her? I ain't
certain you fairly know her by sight nowadays, do you?"

John flushed crimson, but bit his lip in an attempt to keep his temper.
"She left a letter," he said, "and she took Sue with her."

"That was all right; Sue's a nervous little thing and needs at least
one parent; she has n't been used to more, so she won't miss anything.
Jack's like most of the Hathaways; he'll grow up his own way, without
anybody's help or hindrance. What are you going to do with him?"

"Leave him with you, of course. What else could I do?" "Very well, I'll
take him, and while I'm about it I'd like to give you a piece of my
mind."

John was fighting for selfcontrol, but he was too wretched and
remorseful for rage to have any real sway over him.

"Is it the same old piece, or a different one?" he asked, setting his
teeth grimly. "I should n't think you'd have any mind left, you've given
so many pieces of it to me already."

"I have some left, and plenty, too," answered Louisa, dashing into the
house, banging the broom into a corner, coming out again like a breeze,
and slamming the door behind her. "You can leave the boy here and
welcome; I'll take good care of him, and if you don't send me twenty
dollars a month for his food and clothes, I'll turn him outdoors. The
more responsibility other folks rid you of, the more you'll let 'em,
and I won't take a feather's weight off you for fear you'll sink into
everlasting perdition."

"I did n't expect any sympathy from you," said John, drearily, pulling
himself up from the steps and leaning against the honeysuckle trellis.
"Susanna's just the same. Women are all as hard as the nether mi