t he might do. He might even want
to marry you."

"Grandmother!"

Mrs. Brady was favored with the flashing of the Bailey eyes. She viewed it
in astonishment not unmixed with admiration.

"Well, you certainly have got spirit," she ejaculated. "I don't wonder he
liked you. I didn't know you was so pretty, Bessie; you look like your
mother when she was eighteen; you really do. I never saw the resemblance
before. I believe you'll get on all right. Don't you be afraid. I wish you
had your chance if you're so anxious to go to school. I shouldn't wonder
ef you'd turn out to be something and marry rich. Well, I must be getting
back to me tub. Land sakes, but you did give me a turn. I thought Lizzie
had been run over. I couldn't think what else'd make you run off way here
without your coat. Come, get up, child, and go back to your work. It's
too bad you don't like to be kissed, but don't let that worry you. You'll
have lots worse than that to come up against. When you've lived as long as
I have and worked as hard, you'll be pleased to have some one admire you.
You better wash your face, and eat a bite of lunch, and hustle back. You
needn't be afraid. If he's fond of you, he won't bother about your running
away a little. He'll excuse you ef 'tis busy times, and not dock your pay
neither."

"Grandmother!" said Elizabeth. "Don't! I can never go back to that awful
place and that man. I would rather go back to Montana. I would rather be
dead."

"Hoity-toity!" said the easy-going grandmother, sitting down to her task,
for she perceived some wholesome discipline was necessary. "You can't talk
that way, Bess. You got to go to your work. We ain't got money to keep you
in idleness, and land knows where you'd get another place as good's this
one. Ef you stay home all day, you might make him awful mad; and then it
would be no use goin' back, and you might lose Lizzie her place too."

But, though the grandmother talked and argued and soothed by turns,
Elizabeth was firm. She would not go back. She would never go back. She
would go to Montana if her grandmother said any more about it.

With a sigh at last Mrs. Brady gave up. She had given up once before
nearly twenty years ago. Bessie, her oldest daughter, had a will like
that, and tastes far above her station. Mrs. Brady wondered where she got
them.

"You're fer all the world like yer ma," she said as she thumped the
clothes in the wash-tub. "She was jest that way, when she would ma