That's why she keeps so quiet."

"And they had him to supper?"

"It was a dinner served at night. Yes. He took Mrs. Pryor in on his
arm, and it was like a grand party, just as they fixed for themselves,
alone. Waiters, and silver trays, and things carried in and out in
courses."

"My land! Well, I s'pose he had enough schoolin' to get him through it
all right!"

My mother's face grew red. She never left any one in doubt as to what
she meant. Father said that "was the Dutch of it." And mother always
answered that if any one living could put things plainer than the
English, she would like to hear them do it.

"He certainly had," said mother, "or they wouldn't have invited him to
come again. And all mine, Mrs. Freshett, knew how to sit properly at
the table, and manage a knife, fork and napkin, before they ever took a
meal away from home."

"No 'fence," laughed Mrs. Freshett. "I meant that maybe his years of
college schoolin' had give him ways more like theirs than most of us
have. For all the money it takes to send a boy to college, he ought to
get somethin' out of it more than jest fillin' his head with figgers,
an' stars, an' oratin'; an' most always you can see that he does."

"It is contact with cultivated people," said mother. "You are always
influenced by it, without knowing it often."

"Maybe you are, bein' so fine yourself," said Mrs. Freshett. "An' me
too, I never get among my betters that I don't carry home a lot I put
right into daily use, an' nobody knows it plainer. I come here
expectin' to learn things that help me, an' when I go home I know I
have."

"Why, thank you," said mother. "I'm sure that is a very nice
compliment, and I wish I really could feel that it is well deserved."

"Oh I guess you do!" said Mrs. Freshett laughing. "I often noticed you
makin' a special effort to teach puddin' heads like me somethin', an' I
always thank you for it. There's a world in right teachin'. I never
had any. So all I can pick up an' hammer into mine is a gain for me
an' them. If my Henry had lived, an' come out anything like that boy
o' yourn an' the show he made last Sunday, I'd do well if I didn't
swell up an' bust with pride. An' the little tow-haired strip, takin'
the gun an' startin' out alone after a robber, even if he wa'n't much
of a man, that was downright spunky. If my boys will come out anywhere
near like yourn, I'll be glad."

"I don't know how my boys will come out," said