dollars!"

"I didn't understand."

"'Tain't your business to understand," snapped her aunt. "Your business is
to do as I say. Think of your goin' to the Howes--to the Howes of all
people--an' askin' for eggs! It'll be nuts for them. _The Howes._" The
circling fingers loosened weakly.

"I wonder," she continued, "the Howes sold you any eggs. They wouldn't 'a'
done it, you may be sure, but to spite me. I reckon they were only too
glad to take the chance you offered 'em."

"They weren't glad," protested Lucy indignantly. "They didn't want to sell
the eggs at all, at least two of them didn't; but the one called Jane
insisted on letting me have them."

"What'd they say?"

"I couldn't understand," Lucy replied. "They seemed to be afraid of
displeasing somebody called Martin. They said he wouldn't like it."

"Martin wouldn't, eh?" Ellen gave a disagreeable chuckle. "They're right
there. Martin won't like it. They'll be lucky if he doesn't flay them
alive for' doin' it."

"But why, Aunt Ellen? Why?" inquired Lucy.

"Because the Howes hate us, root an' branch; because they've injured an'
insulted us for generations, an' are keepin' right on injurin' an'
insultin' us. That's why!" Ellen's wrath, which had waned a little, again
rose to a white heat. "Because they'd go any length to do us harm--every
one of 'em." Again the grip on Lucy's arm tightened painfully.

Dragging the girl to the window the old woman cried:

"Do you see that pile of stones over there? That's the wall the Howes
built years an' years ago--built because of the grudge they bore the
Websters, likely. Did you ever look on such an eyesore?"

"Why don't they fix it?" asked Lucy naively.

"Yes, why don't they? You may well ask that!" returned Ellen with scathing
bitterness. "Why don't they? Because they're too mean an' stingy--that's
why. Because they think that by lettin' it go to ruin an' makin' my place
look like a dump heap, they can drive me to spend my money to do it,
so'st they can save theirs. Because they're such lyin', deceitful critters
they actually pretend the wall don't belong to 'em anyhow--that it's mine!
_Mine!_ That's why. So they leave it there, lookin' like the devil's own
playground, hopin' that some day I'll get so sick of seem' it that way
that I'll build it up."

She choked for breath.

"But I shan't," she went on. "I never shall, long's I live. If I was to be
drawn an' quartered I wouldn't do it. No. If Martin Howe thinks