“I’ve been kind of low-spirited, and, thinks I, if there is a place where I could get chippered up it’s down to the poor-house, where it’s always so lively and sociable; and if Mis’ Bemis ain’t a-goin’ to send for me I’ll jest go over and find out the reason why.”

The speaker, who had seated herself in a rocking-chair, took off her rough straw hat and fanned herself with it energetically, rocking meanwhile.  She was about midway in the thirties, plain and almost coarse of feature, but with a suggestion of tenderness about her large mouth that softened her whole face.  She had, too, a vigor and freshness which were attractive like the bloom of youth.

“I was jest sayin’ to old lady Peaseley that I didn’t know how I was a-goin’ to get along without you; but I wouldn’t ‘a’ thought of askin’ you to come, bein’ you’re so rich now.”

“Be I a-goin’ to lay by and twiddle my thumbs and listen to folks advisin’ of me jest because I ain’t obliged to work?  I’m all beat out now doin’ nothin’.  Since I’ve bought the old place—­gran’ther’s farm, you know—­I don’t seem to be much better off.  I can’t go to farmin’ it this fall; and what can a lone woman do on a farm anyhow?”

“Farmin’ is kind of poor business for a woman; but I do hope, Mirandy, you ain’t a-goin’ to marry that poor, pigeon-breasted, peddlin’ cretur that’s hangin’ round here.”

Miranda flushed to the roots of her thick black hair.

“It looks better to see a man round on a farm, if he can’t do anything but set on the choppin’-block and whistle,” she said, intently surveying her hat-crown.

“If you want to get married, Mirandy, it seems if you ought to have a stiddy, likely man.”

“I don’t want to get married.  I ain’t never thought of such a thing since—­well, you know all about it, Mis’ Bemis, so I may as well say right out—­since Ephrum took up with M’lissy Whitin’.”

“Ephrum Spencer was a mean scamp to serve you so,” said Mrs. Bemis hotly.

“Now, Mis’ Bemus, don’t you say anything against Ephrum.  You and me has always been friends, but I can’t stand that, anyhow.  Ephrum would have kept his promise to me fair and square, but I saw plain enough that he had given his heart to her.  She was red-and-white-complected, and her hair curled natural, and she’d never done anything but keep school, and her hands was jest as soft and white, and a man’s feelin’s ain’t like a woman’s, anyhow:  if Ephrum had been hump-backed, or all scarred up so’s’t he’d scare folks, like old Mr. Prouty, it wouldn’t ‘a’ made any difference to me, so long as he was Ephrum.  The Lord made men different, and I s’pose it’s all right; but sometimes it seems kind of hard.”  The large, firm mouth quivered like a child’s.

“She was a reg’lar little spitfire, Melissy Whitin’ was:  there wa’n’t nothin’ to her but temper.  I’ll warrant Ephrum Spencer has got his come-uppance before this time,” said the poor-mistress, with satisfaction.  “Well, I think it’s real providential that you don’t want to get married, Mirandy, for as like as not you’d get somebody that would spend all your money.  I told’em I didn’t believe you was goin’ to take up with that poor stick of a book-agent.”