ought of poor Harry Liscom, and how sorry his little sweetheart
must have felt not to be able to show herself in her pretty dresses
to him. However, I was exceedingly glad to hear that she had cried,
because it argued well for Harry, and looked as if she had not found
another lover more to her mind in New York.

Indeed, Grandma Cobb informed us presently as to that. "Harriet does
not seem to find anybody," said she. "I suppose it is because H.
Boardman lost his money; young men are so careful nowadays."

Grandma Cobb stayed to tea with us that night; our supper hour came,
and of course we asked her.

Grandma Cobb owned with the greatest frankness that she should like
to stay. "There isn't a thing to eat at our house but hygienic
biscuits and eggs," said she. "My daughter wrote Hannah not to cook
anything until we came; Hannah would have made some cake and pie,
otherwise. I tell my daughter I have got so far along in life without
living on hygienic food, and I am not going to begin. I want to get a
little comfort out of the taste of my victuals, and my digestion is
as good as hers, in spite of all her fussing. For my part," continued
Grandma Cobb, who had at times an almost coarsely humorous method
of expressing herself, "I believe in not having your mind on your
inwards any more than you can possibly help. I believe the best way
to get along with them is to act as if they weren't there."

After Grandma Cobb went home, as late as nine o'clock, I saw a
clinging, shadowy couple stroll past our house, and knew it was
Harriet Jameson and Harry, as did Louisa, and our consciences began
to trouble us again.

"I feel like a traitor to Caroline and to Mrs. Jameson sometimes,"
said I.

"Well, maybe that is better than to be traitor to true love," said
Louisa, which did sound rather sentimental.

The next morning about eleven o'clock Mrs. Jameson came in, and we
knew at once that she was, so to speak, fairly rampant in the field
of improvement for our good, or rather the good of the village, for,
as I said before, she was now resolved upon the welfare of the
village at large, and not that of individuals or even societies.

"I consider that my own sphere has been widened this winter," said
Mrs. Jameson, and Louisa and I regarded her with something like
terror. Flora Clark said, when she heard that remark of Mrs.
Jameson's, that she felt, for her part, as if a kicking horse had got
out of the pasture, and there was no know