We kinder kept to home always, Major and me, because we hadn’t any brothers to go out with us; so we were pretty shy of new friends at first.  But you couldn’t help bein’ friendly with the Potters, they was such outspoken, kindly creturs, from the Squire down to little Hen.  And it was very handy for us, because now we could go to singin’-schools and quiltin’s, and such-like places, of an evenin’; and we had rather moped at home for want of such things,—­at least I had, and I should have been more moped only for Major’s sweet ways.  She was always as contented as a honey-bee on a clover-head, for the same reason, I guess.

Well, there was a good many good things come to us from the Potters’ movin’ down; but by-and-by it seemed as though I was goin’ to get the bitter of it.  I’d kept company pretty steady with Russell.  I hadn’t give much thought to it, neither; I liked his ways, and he seemed to give in to mine very natural, so’t we got along together first-rate.  It didn’t seem as though we’d ever been strangers, and I wasn’t one to make believe at stiffness when I didn’t feel it.  I told Russell pretty much all I had to tell, and he was allers doin’ for me and runnin’ after me jest as though he’d been my brother.  I didn’t know how much I did think of him, till, after a while, he seemed to take a sight of notice of Major.  I can’t say he ever stopped bein’ clever to me, for he didn’t; but he seemed to have a kind of a hankerin’ after Major all the time.  He’d take her off to walk with him; he’d dig up roots in the woods for her posy-bed; he’d hold her skeins of yarn as patient as a little dog; he’d get her books to read.  Well, he’d done all this for me; but when I see him doin’ it for her, it was quite different; and all to once I know’d what was the matter.  I’d thought too much of Russell Potter.

Oh, dear! those was dark times!  I couldn’t blame him; I knew well enough Major was miles and miles better and sweeter and cleverer than I was; I didn’t wonder he liked her; but I couldn’t feel as if he’d done right by me.  So I schooled myself considerable, talking to myself for being jealous of Major.  But ’twasn’t all that;—­the hardest of it all was that I had to mistrust Russell.  To be sure, he hadn’t said nothin’ to me in round words; I couldn’t ha’ sued him; but he’d looked and acted enough; and now,—­dear me!  I felt all wrung out and flung away!

By-and-by Major begun to see somethin’ was goin’ wrong, and so did Russell.  She was as good as she could be to me, and had patience with all my little pettish ways, and tried to make me friendly with Russell; but I wouldn’t.  I took to hard work, and, what with cryin’ nights, and hard work all day, I got pretty well overdone.  But it all went on for about three months, till one day Russell come up behind me, as I was layin’ out some yarn to bleach down at the end of the orchard, and asked me if I’d go down to Meriden with him next day, to a pic-nic frolic, in the woods.