“—­’N’ there are folks just like that in this world too,” Susan continued, “‘n’ it beats me what the Lord makes ’em so for, for they’ll talk ‘n’ talk ‘n’ wander all over every subjeck in Creation to come ‘n’ never even begin to get around to the point till you’re clean gi’n out with listenin’.  ’F the minister’s wife hadn’t come that day ‘n’ hadn’t talked as she did, I might ‘a’ been left less wore out and, as a consequence, have told you that night what I ain’t never told you yet, for it was strong in my mind then ‘n’ it’s strong in my mind now, ‘n’ bein’ one o’ them ’s wastes no words, I’ll state to you at once, Mrs. Lathrop, ‘t before Mrs. Shores run away—­’n’ after she run away too, f’r that matter—­I was thinkin’ very seriously o’ adoptin’ a baby.”

“A—­” said Mrs. Lathrop, opening her eyes somewhat.

“A baby,” repeated Susan.  “I feel you ought to be the first one to know it because, ’s much ’s I’m out, you’ll naturally have the care of it the most of the time.”

Mrs. Lathrop clawed feebly among her pieces and seemed somewhat bewildered as she clawed.

“Mrs. Shores’ ba—­” she queried.

Susan screamed.

“Mrs. Lathrop!”—­she stopped knitting so that she might concentrate her entire strength into the extreme astonishment which she desired to render manifest in those two words—­“Mrs. Lathrop!—­Me!—­adopt Mrs. Shores’ baby!  Adopt the baby of a woman as ’d gone off ‘n’ left it!”

Mrs. Lathrop looked deeply apologetic.

“I didn’t know—­” she ventured.

“Well, you’d ought to of,” said Susan, “‘n’ if you didn’t I’d never own to it.  Such a idea never entered my head, ‘n’ I can’t conceive when nor how it entered yours.  Only I’m free to confess to one thing, Mrs. Lathrop, ‘n’ that is ’t ‘f I was give to havin’ ideas ’s senseless ’s yours often are, I’d certainly keep my mouth shut ‘n’ let people ’s knows more do the talkin’.”

Mrs. Lathrop swallowed the rebuke and remained passively overcome by the after-clap of her astonishment.

Susan began to knit again.

“I wasn’t thinkin’ o’ Mrs. Shores’ baby ‘n’ I wasn’t thinkin’ o’ no baby in particular.  I never said I was thinkin’ of any baby—­I said I was thinkin’ of a baby.  I sh’d think you could ‘a’ seen the difference, but even if you can’t see it there is a difference just the same.  My sakes alive! it’s a serious enough matter decidin’ to adopt some one for good ‘n’ all without hurryin’ the doin’ of it any.  If you was ’s rich ’s I be, Mrs. Lathrop, you’d understand that better.  ‘N’ if you was ’s rich ’s I be, you might not be in no more of a hurry ’n I am.  I ain’t in a hurry a tall.  I ain’t in a hurry ‘n’ I don’t mean to be in a hurry.  I’m only jus’ a-gettin’ on towards makin’ up my mind.”

Mrs. Lathrop slowly and meditatively drew a piece of sky-blue farmer’s satin from her bag and looked at it absent-mindedly.  Susan twirled her stocking and went on.