"such a fersaakunness"; and as any remainder of time is to
Irish valuation like the broken change of a dollar, when the whole can
no longer be counted on, she gave us warning next morning at breakfast
that she "must just be lukkin out fer a plaashe."

"But," said mother, in her most conciliatory way, "it must be two or
three months, Winny, before we move, if we do go; and I should be glad
to have you stay and help us through."

"Ah, sure, I'd do annything to hilp yiz through; an' I'm sure, I taks
an intheresht in yiz ahl, down to the little cat hersel'; an' indeed I
niver tuk an intheresht in anny little cat but that little cat; but I
couldn't go live where it wud be so loahnsome, an' I can't be out oo a
plaashe, ye see."

It was no use talking; it was only transposing sentences; she "tuk a
graat intheresht in us, an' sure she'd do annything to hilp us, but
she must just be lukkin out fer hersel'." And that very day she had
the kitchen scrubbed up at a most unwonted hour, and her best bonnet
on,--a rim of flowers and lace, with a wide expanse--of ungarnished
head between it and the chignon it was supposed to accommodate,--and
took her "afternoon out" to search for some new situation, where
people were subject neither to sickness nor removals nor company nor
children nor much of anything; and where, under these circumstances,
and especially if there were "set tubs, and hot and cold water," she
would probably remain just about as long as her "intheresht" would
_not_ allow of her continuing with us.

A kitchen exodus is like other small natural commotions,--sure to
happen when anything greater does. When the sun crosses the line we
have a gale down below.

"_Now_ what shall we do?" asked Mrs. Holabird, forlornly, coming back
into the sitting-room out of that vacancy in the farther apartments
which spreads itself in such a still desertedness of feeling all
through the house.

"Just what we've done before, motherums!" said Barbara, more bravely
than she felt. "The next one is somewhere. Like Tupper's 'wife of thy
youth,' she must be 'now living upon the earth.' In fact, I don't
doubt there's a long line of them yet, threaded in and out among the
rest of humanity, all with faces set by fate toward our back door.
There's always a coming woman, in that direction at least."

"I would as lief come across the staying one," said Mrs. Holabird,
with meekness.

It cooled down our enthusiasm. Stephen, especially, was very m