s.
There ought to be a brown poplin hangin' in the little room closet,
unless somebody moved it last spring in housecleanin' time. You bring
that down. I want to git my feet onto the floor."

When Andrew came home to get dinner he stopped in the kitchen door, dumb
with amazement. Marthy sat by the table in the big wooden chair peeling
apples, while Abilonia rolled out the pie crust and told about the
church quilting bee.

The next Sunday Andrew did not change his best suit, as usual, after
church, and his wife remarked the fact as she sat in a blanketed chair
by the living room fire in the evening, with her "Christian Register" in
her hand.

"Well, you know--I've ben thinkin'--Abby's settin' over there by
herself, and it must be lonesome for the girl. And--if I'm--sort
of--engaged to her--don't you see, Marthy? I don't want to leave
you--but it's my duty to keep company with her. I want to carry out your
wishes exact--every one. You can't ask a thing too hard for me to do."

"Yes, I know that, Andrew. If ever a man done his duty, it's you. And
you've had little reward for it, too. I'm tryin' to git you a second
wife that'll have her health and--and--yes, I presume to say that
Abilonia'll ruther look for you to set a while, now that she is bespoke
to you."

"Yes, that's what I guess I ought to do," and he rose briskly.

"Say, Andrew! Don't be in such a hurry. Come back a minute. You gear up
ole Jule to the buggy and git down a comforter for me. I c'n walk some,
to-day, and if you help me I c'n git into the buggy. I feel like the
air would do me good.--Yes, I presume to say it'll be the death of me,
but you never knew me to stop for that, did you? Git my circular cloak
and the white cloud for my head. Yes, I'm goin', Andrew. When I git my
mind made up, you know what it means."

There was a light in Abilonia's parlor when they drove up, and a man's
figure showed through the glass panel of the door as he opened it.

"Willy Parks!" cried Mrs. Dobson in a queer voice.

"Yes, walk right in, Mr. Dobson. That isn't Mrs. Dobson with you--is it
possible!--after so many years. Let me help you steady her. Well, this
is a surprise! Just walk into the parlor and sit down. Abby's down
cellar putting away the milk, but she'll be up in a minute."

"It's consid'able of a surprise to see you here, Willy; it's consid'able
of a disapp'intment--to Mis' Dobson. She had set her mind on--on--"
ventured Andrew mildly.

"Yes, so I he