His mildness disarmed Mary Hopkins.  She was not especially averse to having him sit there.  It relieved the loneliness of her occupation.  On occasions she loved to talk, as Erastus had long ago discovered; and this visitor would not try to shut her up the way Erastus did.

“You don’t often get out, ma’am; into society, and such like,” ventured the caller, presently.

“What makes you think that?” she demanded.

“A woman can’t keep a house neat and trim like this, and be a social gadder,” he observed.

“You’re right about that,” she returned, somewhat mollified.  “If I was like them girls up at Elmhurst, fussin’ round over politics all the time, this house would go to rack an’ ruin.”

“Oh, them!” he said, with mild scorn.  “Them girls ’ll never be housekeepers.”

“Not for a minute,” she affirmed.

There was another pause, then; but the ice was broken.  A subtle sympathy seemed established between the two.

“What do you think of ’Rast’s chances?” she asked, presently, as she threaded new cotton into her needle.

“I guess he’ll win.  He’s worked hard enough, anyhow.”

“Has he?”

“Yes; ’Rast’s a good worker.  He don’t leave any stone unturned.  He’s up to all the tricks o’ the trade, is ’Rast Hopkins!”

Here he began shaking with silent laughter, and Mrs. Hopkins looked at him curiously.

“What are you laughing at?” she inquired, with a sniff of disdain.

“At—­at the way he come it over the gals up at Elmhurst.  ’Rast’s a pretty slick one, he is!”

“What do you mean?”

“Why, settin’ that ’Liza to watch ’em, and tell all they does.  Who’d a thought of it but ’Rast Hopkins?”

“I don’t see anything mighty funny about that,” declared Mrs. Hopkins, contemptuously.  “The girl’s too pert and forward for anything.  I told ’Rast not to fool with her, or she’d make him trouble.”

“Did you, now!” exclaimed the man, wonderingly.

“Yes, indeed,” said Mrs. Hopkins, pleased to have made an impression.  “I suspected there was something wrong about her the morning she came to the house here.  And she changed her name, too, as brassy as you please.”

“Well, I declare!” said the visitor.  “Did you know her before that, Mrs. Hopkins?”

“Why, I didn’t exactly know her, but I seen her workin’ around Miss Squiers’s place many a time, and she didn’t seem to ’mount to much, even then.  One day she stole a di’mond ring off’n old Miss Squiers and dug out, and I told Nancy then—­Nancy’s young Miss Squiers—­that I’d always had my suspicions of the hussy.  She hid the ring in a vase on the mantle and they found it after she was gone.”

“Well, well!  I didn’t know that about her,” said the man, looking with admiration at Mrs. Hopkins.

“That’s why I told ’Rast not to have any truck with her, when she came here bright and early one morning and asked for work.”