ve up about a mile above where I do. It's
rather lonesome where I live, but it is a very lonesome place where they
live. It is not a good road over there. I don't suppose you were ever on
that road were you?"

"No," said Mrs. Herne, "I have never been over there. Charles said it
was out of the way and a poor road, being muddy in winter and very dusty
in summer."

"Well," said Mrs. Cullom, "Mrs. Lenair has been on that place about two
years. She seems pleasant, but so different from most women. The second
time I called on her, I got there about two o'clock, and I thought I
would have a nice afternoon chat. So I began talking to her about my
work, and telling her how I worked my butter, and talking to her about
my cooking, and I tried to get her to talk, but she would only say a few
words about such things. About five minutes was as long as I could get
her to talk about her butter and cooking. Why, some women would talk by
the hour on such subjects. Now, she did not appear stuck up or proud,
she seemed so pleasant, her face being very bright and pleasing; and
there seemed to be such a feeling of restfulness about her that I liked
to be with her; but she seems to have so little to say about matters we
are all so much interested in. I could not get her to talk about
herself, so I asked about Penloe, if he was at home. She said, yes, he
had returned from San Francisco last week; that he had been away three
months. That surprised me, Mrs. Herne, because I did not think they were
people who had money to spend in visiting and seeing the sights of a
great city. Why, look at their place, it is not much; she sold the fruit
on the trees for two hundred dollars, and outside of the orchard they
have only pasture enough for four head of stock. Their house has four
rooms, the kitchen is the only room I have been in, but it is kept very
neat. I said to her: 'Does Penloe have much business in San Francisco?'
She smiled and said he had business as long as he washed dishes in a
restaurant. That just took my breath away, for to see Penloe you would
think he would be the last man in the world to do work like that. I
cannot tell you how he looks, but he looks so different from the young
men about here; nothing like them at all. He has a face that I like, but
I don't know him enough to say much to him.

"Well, after they had been on that place about eighteen months or so, I
said to Dan one morning after breakfast, that I did not feel like go