"She's off 'er nut now, I know," said Peter. "I know
'er too well; she never would come back heer ef she wus in 'er right
mind."
"Well, I don't want to meet 'er--that's one thing certain," cried Mrs.
Lithicum in sudden terror. "She mought pounce upon me on Lizzie's
account. I'm a-goin' home by the path through the cotton-patch. Good
day to all uv you. Ef I was you-uns," she called back from the door,
"I'd have 'er put up!"
Abner mutely followed her, and the Slogans were left to solve the
problem for themselves. The wagon drew up at the door, and from their
window they saw the little woman step down over the front wheel and
direct the white driver--they could not hear her voice, but they read
the signs of her hands--to put the few pieces of furniture on the
porch. This done, the wagon clattered away, and Mrs. Dawson, with
hanging head, came into the passage and went to her old room.
"What in the name o' goodness do you reckon she's goin' to do?" gasped
Mrs. Slogan, quite pale and cold. "I'm nearly skeerd to death."
"She's got a faint idee 'at she's goin' to put up heer with us,"
answered Peter with considerable concern for a man of his phlegmatic
temperament.
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