the door and looked out. She was a slim woman, and her
straggling, dusty-coloured hair hung about an unpleasant sallow face.
She shaded her eyes with her hand, as if the faint light could hurt
those cold, steel-grey orbs. "It 's mornin'," she said to those within.
"I 'll have to be goin' along to git my man's breakfast: he goes to work
at six o'clock, and I 'ain't got a thing cooked in the house fur him.
Some o' the rest o' you 'll have to stay an' lay her out." She went back
in and closed the door behind her.

"La, Mis' Warren, you ain't a-goin' a'ready? Why, there 's everything to
be done here yit: Margar't 's to be laid out, an' this house has to be
put into some kind of order before the undertaker comes."

"I should like to know what else I 'm a-goin' to do, Mis' Austin.
Charity begins at home. My man 's got to go to work, an' he 's got to
have his breakfast: there 's cares fur the livin' as well as fur the
dead, I say, an' I don't believe in tryin' to be so good to them that 's
gone that you furgit them that 's with you."

Mrs. Austin pinched up her shrivelled face a bit more as she replied,
"Well, somebody ought to stay. I know I can't, fur I 've got a ter'ble
big washin' waitin' fur me at home, an' it 's been two nights sence I
've had any sleep to speak of, watchin' here. I 'm purty near broke
down."

"That 's jest what I 've been a-sayin'," repeated Mrs. Warren. "There 's
cares fur the livin' as well as fur the dead; you 'd ought to take care
o' yoreself: first thing you know you 'll be flat o' yore own back."

A few other women joined their voices in the general protest against
staying. It was for all the world as if they had been anxious to see the
poor woman out of the world, and, now that they knew her to be gone, had
no further concern for her. All had something to do, either husbands to
get off to work or labours of their own to perform.

A little woman with a weak voice finally changed the current of talk by
saying, "Well, I guess I kin stay: there 's some cold things at home
that my man kin git, an' the childern 'll git off to school by
themselves. They 'll all understand."

"That 's right, Melissy Davis," said a hard-faced woman who had gone on
about some work she was doing, without taking any notice of the
clamorous deserters, "an' I 'll stay with you. I guess I 've got about
as much work to do as any of you," she added, casting a cold glance at
the women who were now wrapped up and ready to de