speech is called
for here," said she, in a furious self-betrayal. Josiah Pease had always
been able to storm her reserves.

"Law, no," answered he comfortably. "It come into my mind,--that's all."

She looked at Enoch with a passionate sympathy, knowing too well how the
hidden sting was intended to work. But Enoch had not heard. He was
absorbed in a finer problem of brass and iron; and though Amelia had
wished to save him from hurt, in that instant she scorned him for his
blindness. "I guess I shall have to ask you to move," she said to her
husband coldly. "I've got to git to that stove, if we're goin' to have
any dinner to-day."

It seemed to her that even Enoch might take the hint, and clear away his
rubbish. Her feelings might have been assuaged by a clean hearth and
some acquiescence in her own mood. But he only moved back a little, and
went on fitting and musing. He was not thinking of her in the least,
nor even of Josiah Pease. His mind had entered its brighter, more
alluring world. She began to fry her pork and apples, with a perfunctory
attempt at conversation. "You don't often git round so early in the
spring," said she.

"No," returned cousin Josiah. "I kind o' got started out, this time, I
don't rightly know why. I guess I've had you in mind more of late, for
some Tiverton folks come over our way, tradin', an' they brought all the
news. It sort o' stirred me up to come."

Amelia turned her apples vigorously, well aware that the slices were
breaking. That made a part of her bitter day.

"Folks needn't take the trouble to carry news about me," she said. There
was an angry gleam in her eyes. "If anybody wants to know anything, let
'em come right here, an' I'll settle 'em." The ring of her voice
penetrated even to Enoch's perception, and he looked up in mild
surprise. She seemed to have thrown open, for an instant, a little
window into a part of her nature he had never seen.

"How good them apples smell!" said Josiah innocently. "Last time I had
'em was down to cousin Amasa True's, he that married his third wife, an'
she run through all he had. I went down to see 'em arter the
vandoo,--you know they got red o' most everything,--an' they had fried
pork an' apples for dinner. Old Bashaby dropped in. 'Law!' says she.
'Fried pork an' apples! Well, I call that livin' pretty nigh the wind!'"
Josiah chuckled. He was very warm now, and the savory smell of the dish
he decried was mounting to what served him for fa