n on Hepsie's shoulders in
those last weeks, and particularly since she herself had been out of bed,
for the girl loved Elizabeth and had shielded her by extra steps many
times when her own limbs must have ached with weariness.

"You don't mean to say you used the tin pans for any thing as corroding as
tomatoes!" Mrs. Hunter exclaimed in astonishment.

"We used everything in sight I think--and then didn't have enough,"
Elizabeth said with a laugh.

"But you should never use your milk pans for anything but milk, dear," the
older woman remonstrated. "You know milk takes up everything that comes
its way, and typhoid comes from milk oftener than any other source."

"There are no typhoids in tomatoes fresh from the vine," Elizabeth replied
testily, and Mrs. Hunter dropped the subject.

But though she dropped the subject she did not let the pans drop till the
last one shone like a mirror. With the large number of cows they were
milking many receptacles were needed and John had got those pans because
they were lighter to handle than the heavy stone crocks used by most
farmers' wives. Elizabeth was more appreciative, of those pans than any
purchase which had been made for her benefit in all the months she had
served as John's housekeeper, but by the time she was through scouring she
was ready to throw them at any one who was foolish enough to address her
upon housekeeping; besides, she plainly discerned the marks of discontent
upon Hepsie's face. Hepsie was a faithful servitor, but she had learned by
several years of service to stop before her energies were exhausted. It
was the first sign of dissatisfaction she had ever shown, and Elizabeth
was concerned.

The next morning Elizabeth's head was one solid, throbbing globe of roar
and pain. Mrs. Hunter brought her a dainty breakfast which it was
impossible for her to eat, and said with genuine affection:

"We have let you do too much, my dear, and I mean to take some of this
burden off of your shoulders. You're not yourself yet. John tells me you
were sicker than people usually are at such times. I ought to have helped
the girl with that tinware yesterday and sent you to bed."

Elizabeth listened with some alarm to the proposition of Mrs. Hunter
taking the house into her own hands, but she was touched by the real
sympathy and concern evident.

"It's good of you, mother. You'll have to be careful about Hepsie, though.
You must not call her 'the girl' where she hears you.