ll struck aghast by its own temerity.

"Ye never said nuthin ter hender," she faltered.

"I never knowed Tobe, sca'cely. How's enny-body goin' ter know a man
ez lived 'way off down hyar in Lonesome Cove?" her mother retorted,
acridly, on the defensive. "He never courted _me_, nohows. All the word
he gin me war, 'Howdy,' an' I gin him no less."

There was a pause.

Eugenia knelt on the hearth. She placed together the broken chunks, and
fanned the flames with a turkey wing. "I won't kiver the fire yit," she
said, thoughtfully. "He mought be chilled when he gits home."

The feathery flakes of the ashes flew; they caught here and there in her
brown hair. The blaze flared up, and flickered over her flushed, pensive
face, and glowed in her large and brilliant eyes.

"Tobe said 'Howdy,'" her mother bickered on. "I knowed by that ez he hed
the gift o' speech, but he spent no mo' words on me." Then, suddenly,
with a change of tone: "I war a fool, though, ter gin my cornsent ter
yer marryin' him, bein' ez ye war the only child I hed, an' I knowed I'd
hev ter live with ye 'way down hyar in Lonesome Cove. I wish now ez ye
hed abided by yer fust choice, an' married Luke Todd."

Eugenia looked up with a gathering frown. "I hev no call ter spen'
words 'bout Luke Todd," she said, with dignity, "ez me an' him are both
married ter other folks."

"I never said ye hed," hastily replied the old woman, rebuked and
embarrassed. Presently, however, her vagrant speculation went recklessly
on. "Though ez ter Luke's marryin', 'tain't wuth while ter set store on
sech. The gal he found over thar in Big Fox Valley favors ye ez close ez
two black-eyed peas. That's why he married her. She looks precisely like
ye useter look. An' she laffs the same. An' I reckon _she_ 'ain't hed
no call ter quit laffin', 'kase he air a powerful easy-goin' man.
Leastways, he useter be when we-uns knowed him."

"That ain't no sign," said Eugenia. "A saafter-spoken body I never seen
than Tobe war when he fust kem a-courtin' round the settlemint."

"Sech ez that ain't goin' ter las' noways," dryly remarked the
philosopher of the chimney-corner.

This might seem rather a reflection upon the courting gentry in general
than a personal observation. But Eugenia's consciousness lent it point.

"Laws-a-massy," she said, "Tobe ain't so rampa-gious, nohows, ez folks
make him out. He air toler'ble peaceable, cornsiderin' ez nobody hev
ever hed grit enough ter make a sta