an wearing the
Mennonite dress, standing before a huge kitchen range, stirring
"ponhaus" in a caldron.

The immaculate neatness of the large kitchen gave evidence, as did
garden, board-walk, and front porch, of that morbid passion for
"cleaning up" characteristic of the Dutch housewife.

Jonas Hershey did a very large and lucrative business, and the work of
his establishment was heavy. But he hired no "help" and his wife and
daughter worked early and late to aid him in earning the dollars which
he hoarded.

"Sister Jennie!" Tillie accosted Mrs. Hershey with the New Mennonite
formal greeting, "I wish you the grace and peace of the Lord."

"The same to you, sister," Mrs. Hershey replied, bending to receive
Tillie's kiss as the girl came up to her at the stove--the Mennonite
interpretation of the command, "Salute the brethren with a holy kiss."

"Well, Lizzie," was Tillie's only greeting to the girl at the table.
Lizzie was not a member of meeting and the rules forbade the members to
kiss those who were still in the world.

"Well, Tillie," answered Lizzie, not looking up from the bread she was
cutting.

Tillie instantly perceived a lack of cordiality. Something was wrong.
Lizzie's face was sullen and her mother's countenance looked grim and
determined. Tillie wondered whether their evident ill-humor were in any
way connected with herself, or whether her Aunty Em's surmise were
correct, and Sister Jennie was really "spited."

"I've come to get two pound of mush," she said, remembering her errand.

"It's all," Mrs. Hershey returned. "We solt every cake at market, and
no more's made yet. It was all a'ready till market was only half over."

"Aunty Em'll be disappointed. She thought she'd make fried mush for
supper," said Tillie.

"Have you strangers?" inquired Mrs. Hershey.

"No, we haven't anybody for supper, unless some come on the stage this
after. We had four for dinner."

"Were they such agents, or what?" asked Lizzie.

Tillie turned to her. "Whether they were agents? No, they were just
pleasure-seekers. They were out for a drive and stopped off to eat."

At this instant the rattling old stage-coach drew up at the gate.

The mother and daughter, paying no heed whatever to the sound, went on
with their work, Mrs. Hershey looking a shade more grimly determined as
she stirred her ponhaus and Lizzie more sulky.

Tillie had just time to wonder whether she had better slip out before
the stranger came in, wh