ent to a school to another woman, as lived
up Shepherd's Row. You remember her, Betsy Brunt?"

Mrs. Brunt's worn eyes began already to gleam and sparkle.

"Yis, I recolleck very well, Mrs. Jellison. She wor Mercy Moss, an' a
goodish deal of trouble you'd use to get me into wi' Mercy Moss, all
along o' your tricks."

Mrs. Jellison, still with folded arms, began to rock herself gently up
and down as though to stimulate memory.

"My word, but Muster Maurice--he wor the clergyman here then, miss--wor
set on Mercy Moss. He and his wife they flattered and cockered her up.
Ther wor nobody like her for keepin' school, not in their eyes--till one
midsummer--she--well she--I don't want to say nothink onpleasant--_but
she transgressed_," said Mrs. Jellison, nodding mysteriously,
triumphant however in the unimpeachable delicacy of her language, and
looking round the circle for approval.

"What do you say?" asked Marcella, innocently. "What did Mercy Moss do?"

Mrs. Jellison's eyes danced with malice and mischief, but her mouth shut
like a vice. Patton leaned forward on his stick, shaken with a sort of
inward explosion; his plaintive wife laughed under her breath till she
must needs sigh because laughter tired her old bones. Mrs. Brunt gurgled
gently. And finally Mrs. Jellison was carried away.

"Oh, my goodness me, don't you make me tell tales o' Mercy Moss!" she
said at last, dashing the water out of her eyes with an excited
tremulous hand. "She's bin dead and gone these forty year--married and
buried mos' respeckable--it 'ud be a burning shame to bring up tales
agen her now. Them as tittle-tattles about dead folks needn't look to
lie quiet theirselves in their graves. I've said it times, and I'll say
it again. What are you lookin' at me for, Betsy Brunt?"

And Mrs. Jellison drew up suddenly with a fierce glance at Mrs. Brunt.

"Why, Mrs. Jellison, I niver meant no offence," said Mrs. Brunt,
hastily.

"I won't stand no insinooating," said Mrs. Jellison, with energy. "If
you've got soomthink agen me, you may out wi' 't an' niver mind the
young lady."

But Mrs. Brunt, much flurried, retreated amid a shower of excuses,
pursued by her enemy, who was soon worrying the whole little company, as
a dog worries a flock of sheep, snapping here and teasing there,
chattering at the top of her voice in broad dialect, as she got more and
more excited, and quite as ready to break her wit on Marcella as on
anybody else. As for the oth