hat I would say to grandma if she should give me the
chance.

Grandpa, who had come home very late, did not know what had happened,
and he and I breakfasted with the men, and grandma and the Steins came
after we left the room. No one offered to help me that morning, still I
got through my duties before grandma called me to her. She seemed more
hurt than angry, and began by saying:

"On account of thy bad conduct, Mrs. Stein is going to shorten her
stay. She is going to leave on Tuesday, and wants me to go with her.
She says that she has kept back the worst things that thou hast told
about me, but will tell them to me on the road."

Trembling with indignation, I exclaimed, "Oh, grandma, thou hast always
told us that it is wrong to speak of the faults of a guest in the
house, but what dost thou think of one who hath done what Mrs. Stein
hath done? I did say some of the things she told thee, but I did not
say them in that way. I didn't give them that meaning. I didn't utter
one unkind word against thee or grandpa. I have not been false to thee.
To prove it, I promise to stay and take care of everything while thou
goest and hearest what more she hath to tell, but after the
home-coming, I leave. Nothing that thou canst say will make me change
my mind. I am thankful for the home I have had, but will not be a
burden to thee longer. I came to thee poor, and I will go away poor."

The Brunner conveyance was at the door on Tuesday morning when grandma
and her guest came out to begin their journey. Grandpa helped grandma
and the widow on to the back seat. While he was putting Johnnie in
front with the driver, I stepped close to the vehicle, and extended my
hand to grandma, saying, "Good-bye, don't worry about the dairy while
thou art gone, for everything will be attended to until thy return; but
remember--then I go."

On the way back to the house grandpa asked why I did not treat the
widow more friendly, and I answered, "Because I don't believe in her."
To my surprise, he replied, "I don't either, but grandma is like a
little child in her hands."

I felt that I ought to tell him I should soon go away, but I had never
gone to him with home troubles, and knew that it would not be right to
speak of them in grandma's absence; so he quietly went to his duties
and I to mine. Yet I could not help wondering how grandma could leave
me in full charge of her possessions if she believed the stories that
had been told her. I felt so sur