e the bag and the umbrella," suggested her companion. "Now,
then, one light spring. Steady!" For clutching both the young man's
hands she made him quiver to the shock as she fell against him.

"I'm clumsy when I'm tired, Ben," she explained. "I'm so much obliged to
you, and you will come over to-morrow afternoon?"

"To hear about the umbrella? Yes, indeed! Look at its fine open
countenance. You can see at once that it has performed some great deed
to-day." He shook the capacious fluttering folds and handed it to its
owner.

"Thank you so much, Ben, and give my love to your mother."

The young fellow jumped into the car and sped away and Miss Upton
plodded slowly up to her door whose bell pealed sharply as it was pulled
open by an unseen hand, and a colorless, sour-visaged woman appeared in
the entrance. Her hay-colored hair was strained back and wound in a
tight, small knot, her forehead wore a chronic scowl, and her one-sided
mouth had a vinegary expression.

"Think you're smart, don't you?" was her greeting; "comin' home in a
grand automobile with the biggest ketch in the village."

"Yes, wasn't I lucky?" responded Miss Upton nasally. "I hope the
kettle's on, Charlotte. I'm beat out."

"Well, what did you stay so long for? That's what you always do--stay
till the last dog's hung and wear yourself out." The speaker snatched
the bag and umbrella and Miss Mehitable followed her into the house,
through the shop, and into the little living-room at the back where an
open fire burned in the Franklin stove and the tea-table was neatly set
for two.

Miss Upton regarded the platter of sliced meat, the amber preserve, and
napkin-enfolded biscuit listlessly.

"How nice you always make a table look," she said.

"Well, set right down and give me your hat and jacket. Drink some tea
before you talk any more. I should think you'd have some sense by this
time."

Scolding away, Charlotte poured the tea and Miss Mehitable drank it in
silence. Her companion's monotonous grumbling was like the ticking of
the clock so far as any effect it had upon her. The autumn before, this
woman's drunken husband, Whipp by name, had passed out of her life. She
was penniless, not strong, and friendless as much by reason of her
sharp tongue as by her poor circumstances. Miss Upton hired her one day
a week for cleaning and once upon a time fell ill herself, when this
unpromising person developed such a kindly touch in nursing and so much
commo