ve all taken a great liking to her, and she is to be our visitor
from now until summer, when some other plans are to be made."

"Well--if you have money to throw away----" gasped Aunt Priscilla.

"She won't eat more than a chicken, and she'll sleep in Betty's bed. It
will help steady Betty and be an interest to all of us. I really
couldn't think of charging. It's like having one of the grandchildren
here. And she needs a mother's care. Think of the poor little girl with
not a near relative! Aunt Priscilla, there's a good many things money
can't buy."

Aunt Priscilla sniffed.

"Take off your bonnet and have a cup of tea," Mrs. Leverett had asked
her when she first came in. "It's such a long walk back to King Street
on an empty stomach. The children are making cookies, but Betty shall
brew a cup of tea at once, unless you'll wait till the men folks come
in."

Aunt Priscilla sat severe and undecided for a moment. The laughing
voices in the other room piqued and vexed and interested her all in a
breath. She had come over to hear about Doris. There was so little
interest in her methodical old life. Mrs. Leverett sincerely pitied
women who had no children and no grandchildren.

"They're quite as queer as old maids without the real excuse," she said
to her husband. "They've missed the best things out of their lives
without really knowing they were the best."

And perhaps at this era more respect was paid to age. There were certain
trials and duties to life that men and women accepted and did not try to
evade. A modern happy woman would have been bored at the call of a
dissatisfied old woman every few days. But since the death of Mehitable
Doule, Priscilla's own cousin, who had been married from her house, she
had clung more to the Leveretts. Foster was too easy-going, otherwise
she had not much fault to find with him. He had prospered and was
forehanded, and his married son and daughters had been fairly
successful.

"Well, I don't care if I do," said Aunt Priscilla, with a
half-reluctance. "Though I hadn't decided to when I came away, and
Polly'll make a great hole in that cold roast pork, for I never said a
word as to what she should have for supper. She's come to have no more
sense than a child, and some things are bad to eat at night. But if she
makes herself sick she'll have to suffer."

"I'll have some tea made----"

"No, 'Lizabeth, don't fuss. I shan't be in any hurry, if I do stay, and
the men will be in be