side of the house always did feel big, and above Nancy's folks,
thinkin' Nancy's mother married beneath her."

Mrs. Graham must have enjoyed her dinner very much, for during
grandma's recital she applied herself assiduously to her plate, never
once looking up, while her face and neck were literally spotted,
either with heat, excitement or anger. These spots at last attracted
Mrs. Nichols' attention, causing her to ask the lady "if she warn't
pestered with erysipelas."

"I am not aware of it, madam," answered Mrs. Graham, and grandma
replied, "It looks mighty like it to me, and I've seen a good deal
on't, for Nancy Scovandyke has allers had it more or less. Now I
think on't," she continued, as if bent on tormenting her companion,
"now I think on't, you look quite a considerable like Nancy--the same
forehead and complexion--only she's a head taller. Hain't you
noticed it, John?"

"No, I have not," answered John, at the same time proposing a change
in the conversation, as he presumed "they had all heard enough of
Nancy Scovandyke."

At this moment the dessert appeared, and with it Anna's pie. John
Jr. was the first to taste it, and with an expression of disgust he
exclaimed, "Horror, mother, who made this pie?"

Mrs. Livingstone needed but one glance at her guests to know that
something was wrong, and darting an angry frown at Hagar, who was
busy at a side-table, she wondered "if there ever was any one who had
so much trouble with servants as herself."

Anna saw the gathering storm, and knowing full well that it would
burst on poor Hagar's head, spoke out, "Hagar is not in the fault,
mother--no one but myself is to blame. _I_ made the pie, and must
have put in salt instead of sugar."

"You made the pie!" repeated Mrs. Livingstone angrily, "What business
had you in the kitchen? Pity we hadn't a few more servants, for then
we should all be obliged to turn drudges."

Anna was about to reply, when John Jr. prevented her, by asking, "if
it hurt his sister to be in the kitchen any more than it did 'Lena,
who," he said, "worked there both yesterday and to-day, burning
herself until she is ashamed to appear at the table."

Mortified beyond measure at what had occurred, Mrs. Livingstone
hastened to explain that her servants were nearly all sick, and that
in her dilemma, 'Lena had volunteered her services, adding by way of
compliment, undoubtedly, that "her niece seemed peculiarly adapted to
such work--indeed, that