said, her face troubled.

Hepsie avoided her glance because she knew the trouble was there. Hepsie
had been very happy in this house and had been proud of a chance to keep
its well supplied shelves in satisfactory condition. Gossip hovered over
whatever went on in the Hunter home, and there was a distinction in being
associated with it; also Hepsie had come to love Elizabeth more than she
usually did her country mistresses. She saw that all the unkind things
which were being said about Elizabeth's stuck-up propensities were untrue,
and that Elizabeth Hunter was as sensible and kindly as could be wished
when people understood her.

"I'll be up and around hereafter," Elizabeth continued. "You don't
understand mother. She's all right, only she isn't used to the farm."

"I guess I understand 'er all right," Hepsie said sullenly; "'t wouldn't
make no difference, you bein' up. She'd be a-tellin' me what t' do just
th' same, an' I'm tired enough, washdays, without havin' somebody t'
aggravate me about every piece that goes through th' rench."

She stood waiting for Elizabeth to speak, and when she did not, added
resentfully:

"You an' me always got along. We had a clean house, too, if Mr. Hunter
didn't think I knew much."

Elizabeth's surprise was complete. She had not supposed the girl knew
John's estimate of her work. John was usually so clever about keeping out
of sight when he insisted upon anything unpleasant that it had never
occurred to Elizabeth that Hepsie was aware that John insisted upon having
her do things which he felt that Hepsie could not be trusted to do
unwatched. There was nothing more to be said. She reckoned the girl's
wages, and told her that Jake could have the team.

Before Hepsie went that night, she came back to the bedroom and cuddled
the baby tenderly.

"I'm--I'm sorry t' go an' leave you with th' baby so little, Lizzie.
'Taint hardly fair, but--but if you worked out a while you'd learn t' quit
'fore you was wore out." She stood thinking a moment, and then cautioned
Elizabeth sincerely: "I'm goin' t' say one thing 'fore I leave: you'd
better ship that old woman 'fore you try t' get another girl around these
parts. I'll be asked why I left an'--an' I'll have t' tell, or git folks
t' thinkin' I'm lazy an' you won't have me."

Elizabeth's heart sank. She would not plead for the girl to keep still. It
would have been of no use; besides, her own sense of fairness told her
that there was room f