"Where is Penelope?" asked Evadne.

"Oh, skykin' round. She's gone over to Miss Johnsing's ter help with the
quiltin'. That's the way she duz, an' here I am all alone with the fire
ter tend ter, an' not a livin' soul ter do a hand's turn fer me! She sez
she hez ter do it ter keep the pot bilin'--'pears ter me Penel's pots
take a sight uv bilin'."

"But she has left a nice pile of wood close beside you, Mrs. Riggs."

"La, yes," grumbled the old lady, "but it's dretful thoughtless in her
ter stay away so long, when she knows the stoopin' cums so hard on my
rheumatiz. An' it's terrible lonesome. I get that narvous some days I'm
all of a shake. 'Tain't ez ef she kep within' call, but t'other day she
went clean over ter Hancocks,--a hull mile an' a half! She sez she hez
ter go where folks wants things done, but that's nonsense, folks oughter
want things done near at hand,--they know how lonesome I be. Why, a bear
might cum in an' eat me up for all Penel would know. She gits so taken
up a' larfin' an' singin', she ain't got no sympathy. Oh, it's a wale o'
tears!"

"But there are no bears in Vernon, Mrs. Riggs," laughed Evadne.

"Land, child! you never know what there might be!" said the old lady
testily. "Be you a' stayin' at Mis' Everidge's?"

"Yes," said Evadne, "she is my aunt."

"Hum! I never knew she hed any nieces, 'cept them two gals uv Jedge
Hildreth's down ter Marlborough."

"I am their cousin, Mrs. Riggs. I used to live in Barbadoes."

"Well, I declar! Why, Barbaderz is t' other side of nowhere! Used ter
be when I went ter school. Well, well, some folks hez a lion's share uv
soarin' an' here I've ben all my life jest a' pinin' my heart out ter
git down ter Bosting, an' I ain't never got there! But that's allers the
way. I never git nuthin'. I'm sixty-nine years old cum Christmas an' I
ain't never ben further away frum hum than twenty miles hand runnin',
an' here's a chit like you done travelin' enuff ter last a lifetime."

"But I didn't want to travel, Mrs. Riggs," said Evadne gently. "I would
so much rather have stayed at home."

"There you go!" grumbled the old lady. "Folks ain't never satisfied with
their mercies. Allers a' flyin' in the face uv Providence. I tell you
we'se wurms, child; miserable, shiftless wurms, a' crawlin' down in this
walley of humiliation, with our faces ter the dust."

"But you've got a great deal to be thankful for, Mrs. Riggs," ventured
Evadne, "in having such a daughter.