He pulled forward the ancient rocker with the rush seat. The
cross-stitch "tidy" on the back was his mother's handiwork, she had made
it when she was fifteen. Rachel sat down in the rocker.

"Al" she began, still in the same mysterious whisper, "I know all about
it."

He looked at her. "All about what?" he asked.

"About the trouble you and Cap'n Lote had this afternoon. I know you're
plannin' to leave us all and go away somewheres and that he told you to
go, and all that. I know what you've been doin' up here to-night. Fur's
that goes," she added, with a little catch in her breath and a wave of
her hand toward the open trunk and suitcase upon the floor, "I wouldn't
need to know, I could SEE."

Albert was surprised and confused. He had supposed the whole affair to
be, so far, a secret between himself and his grandfather.

"You know?" he stammered. "You--How did you know?"

"Laban told me. Labe came hurryin' over here just after supper and
told me the whole thing. He's awful upset about it, Laban is. He thinks
almost as much of you as he does of Cap'n Lote or--or me," with an
apologetic little smile.

Albert was astonished and troubled. "How did Labe know about it?" he
demanded.

"He heard it all. He couldn't help hearin'."

"But he couldn't have heard. The door to the private office was shut."

"Yes, but the window at the top--the transom one, you know--was wide
open. You and your grandpa never thought of that, I guess, and Laban
couldn't hop up off his stool and shut it without givin' it away that
he'd been hearin'. So he had to just set and listen and I know how he
hated doin' that. Laban Keeler ain't the listenin' kind. One thing about
it all is a mercy," she added, fervently. "It's the Lord's own mercy
that that Issy Price wasn't where HE could hear it, too. If Issy heard
it you might as well paint it up on the town-hall fence; all creation
and his wife wouldn't larn it any sooner."

Albert drew a long breath. "Well," he said, after a moment, "I'm sorry
Labe heard, but I don't suppose it makes much difference. Everyone will
know all about it in a day or two . . . I'm going."

Rachel leaned forward.

"No, you ain't, Al," she said.

"I'm not? Indeed I am! Why, what do you mean?"

"I mean just what I say. You ain't goin'. You're goin' to stay right
here. At least I hope you are, and I THINK you are. . . . Oh, I know,"
she added, quickly, "what you are goin' to say. You're goin' to tell me
that your