“Where’d you say you were goin’ this afternoon, Abby?”

“I said out in the country a piece, Lois; it’s such a nice afternoon.”

“Well, I should think Henry’d be needing the horse for his business.  I know I’d never think of asking him for it—­and me a blood relation, too, trying to earn my bread and butter tramping around the country with Famous People.”

Mrs. Daggett, thus convicted of heartless selfishness, sighed vaguely.  Henry’s sister always made her feel vastly uncomfortable, even sinful.

“You know, Lois, we’d be real glad to have you come and live with us constant,” she said heroically....  “Git-ap, Dolly!”

Miss Daggett compressed her thin lips.

“No; I’m too independent for that, Abby, an’ you know it.  If poor Henry was to be left a widower, I might consider living in his house and doing for him; but you know, Abby, there’s very few houses big enough for two women....  And that r’minds me; did you know Miss Orr has got a hired girl?”

“Has she?” inquired Mrs. Daggett, welcoming the change of subject with cordial interest.  “A hired girl! ...Git-ap, Dolly!”

“Yes,” confirmed Miss Daggett.  “Lute Parsons was telling me she came in on th’ noon train yesterday.  She brought a trunk with her, and her check was from Boston.”

“Well, I want to know!” murmured Mrs. Daggett.  “Boston’s where she came from, ain’t it?  It’ll be real pleasant for her to have somebody from Boston right in the house....  G’long, Dolly!”

“I don’t know why you should be so sure of that, Abby,” sniffed Miss Daggett.  “I should think a person from right here in Brookville would be more company.  How can a hired girl from Boston view the passin’ and tell her who’s goin’ by?  I think it’s a ridiculous idea, myself.”

“I shouldn’t wonder if it’s somebody she knows,” surmised Mrs. Daggett. “’Twould be real pleasant for her to have a hired girl that’s mebbe worked for her folks.”

“I intend to ask her, if she comes to the door,” stated Lois Daggett.  “You can drop me right at the gate; and if you ain’t going too far with your buggy-riding, Abby, you might stop and take me up a spell later.  It’s pretty warm to walk far today.”

“Well, I was thinkin’ mebbe I’d stop in there, too, Lois,” said Mrs. Daggett apologetically.  “I ain’t been to see Miss Orr for quite a spell, and—­”

The spinster turned and fixed a scornfully, intelligent gaze upon the mild, rosy countenance of her sister-in-law.

“Oh, I see!” she sniffed.  “That was where you was pointing for, all the while!  And you didn’t let on to me, oh, no!”

“Now, Lois, don’t you get excited,” exhorted Mrs. Daggett.  “It was just about the wall papers.  Henry, he says to me this mornin’—...  Git-ap, Dolly!”

"’Henry says—­Henry says’! Yes; I guess so!  What do you know about wall papers, Abby? ...Well, all I got to say is:  I don’t want nobody looking on an’ interfering when I’m trying to sell ’Lives of Famous People.’  Folks, es a rule, ain’t so interested in anything they got to pay out money fer, an’ I want a clear field.”