so hope she could
go. Mary wasn't very well, and wanted mother to come on for a week or
two presently," and Betty made big eyes at Aunt Priscilla, while that
lady nodded as well as her bundled up head would admit, to signify that
she understood.

"I'm sure you ought to know enough to keep house for your father and
Warren," was the comment.

Then Betty said they must go, and Aunt Priscilla tartly rejoined that
they might look in and see whether she was dead or alive.

"Can I come and see Solomon again?" asked Doris.

"Of course, since Solomon is head of the house."

"Thank you," returned Doris simply, not understanding the sarcasm.

"Wonderful how Solomon liked little missy," said Polly, straightening
the chairs and restoring order.

"My head aches with all the talking," said Aunt Priscilla. "I want to be
alone."

But she felt a little conscience-smitten as Polly stepped about in the
kitchen getting supper and sang in a thick, soft, but rather quivering
voice, her favorite hymn:

"'Hark, from the tombs a doleful sound,
Mine ears, attend the cry.'"

Yes, Polly was a faithful old creature, only she had grown forgetful,
and she was losing her strength, and black people gave out suddenly. But
there, what was the use of borrowing trouble, and the idea of having a
child around to train and stew over, and no doubt she would be getting
married just the time when she, Mrs. Perkins, would need her the most.
The Lord hadn't seen fit to give her any children to comfort her old
age; after all, would she want a delicate little thing like this child
with a heathenish name!

It was quite chilly now, and Doris, holding Betty's hand tight, skipped
along merrily, her heart strangely warm and gay.

"She's very queer, and her voice sounds as if she couldn't get the scold
out of it, doesn't it? And I felt afraid of the black woman first. I
never saw any until we were on the ship. But the beautiful cat!" with a
lingering emphasis on the adjective.

"Well--cats are cats," replied Betty sagely. "I don't care much about
them myself, though we should be overrun with rats and mice if it wasn't
for them. I like a fine, big dog."

"Oh, Betty!" and a girl caught her by the shoulder, turning her round
and laughing heartily at her surprise.

"Why, Jane! How you startled me."

"And is this your little foreign girl--French or something?"

"English, if you please, and her father was born here in Boston. And
isn't it queer th