Chapter XVI
As the old woman entered the hotel she saw no one. Looking into the
parlor, and seeing it empty, she went down the hall to the rear of the
house. The door of the dining-room was open. Mrs. Floyd was there
arranging some jars of preserves in the cupboard, and turned at the
sound of the slip-shod feet.
"Good-morning," Mrs. Floyd said; "won't you have a seat?"
Mrs. Dawson put her shawl and carpetbag on a chair. "I want to put up
heer to-night," she said. "I never put up at a tavern in my life, an'
I'm a sorter green hand at it. I reckon you could tell that by lookin'
at me."
"We are pretty full," said Mrs. Floyd; "but we will manage to make a
place for you somehow. My daughter will show you a room. Oh, Harriet!"
"Yes, mother." Harriet came in from the kitchen. She had overheard
the conversation. Mrs. Dawson eyed her critically and slowly from head
to foot.
"This lady wants to stop with us," said Mrs. Floyd; "show her to the
little room upstairs."
Harriet took the carpet-bag. "Do you want to go up now?"
"I reckon I mought as well.
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