"

"I don't see as that's got anything to do with this case," said Diadema.

"It's got this much to do with it," replied old Mrs. Bascom, "that
perhaps you've looked all round the room and seen everything you had
eyes to see, and perhaps I've had wit enough to turn up the rug in front
o' the washstand."

"Whoever he marries now, Mis' Bascom'll have to say 't was the one she
meant," laughed the Widow Buzzell.

"I never was caught cheatin' yet, and if I live till Saturday I shall be
seventy-one years old," said the old lady with some heat. "Hand me Jot's
lead pencil, Diademy, and that old envelope on the winder sill. I'll
write the name I think of, and shut it up in the old Bible. My hand's
so stiff to-day I can't hardly move it, but I guess I can make it plain
enough to satisfy you."

"That's fair 'n' square," said Hannah Sophia, "and for my pat I hope it
ain't Eunice, for I like her too well. What they're goin' to live on is
more 'n I can see. Add nothin' to nothin' 'n' you git nothin',--that's
arethmetic! He ain't hed a cent o' ready money sence he failed up four
years ago, 'thout it was that hundred dollars that fell to him from his
wife's aunt. Eunice'll hev her hands full this winter, I guess, with
them three hearty children 'n' him all wheezed up with phthisic from
October to April!... Who's that coming' down Tory Hill? It's Rube's
horse 'n' Rube's wagon, but it don't look like Rube."

"Yes, it's Rube; but he's got a new Panama hat, 'n' he 's hed his linen
duster washed," said old Mrs. Bascom. ... "Now, do you mean to tell me
that that woman with a stuck-up hat on is Eunice Emery? It ain't, 'n'
that green parasol don't belong to this village. He's drivin' her into
his yard!... Just as I s'posed, it's that little, smirkin' worthless
school-teacher up to the Mills.--Don't break my neck, Diademy; can't you
see out the other winder?--Yes, he's helpin' her out, 'n' showin' her
in. He can't 'a' ben married more'n ten minutes, for he's goin' clear up
the steps to open the door for her!"

"Wait 'n' see if he takes his horse out," said Hannah Sophia. "Mebbe
he'll drive her back in a few minutes. ... No, he's onhitched! ...
There, he's hangin' up the head-stall!"

"I've ben up in the attic chamber," called the Widow Buzzell, as she
descended the stairs; "she's pulled up the curtains, and took off her
hat right in front o' the winder, 's bold as a brass kettle! She's come
to stay! Ain't that Rube Hobson all over,--to