ome tea, and cooked an egg for her breakfast.
Then she arrayed herself in her best dress. She was all ready, her
bag and basket of luncheon packed and her bonnet on, at three
o'clock. She sat down and folded her hands to wait, but presently
started up. "I'm going to do it," said she. "I don't care, I am. I
can't feel easy unless I do."

She got some writing-paper and pen and ink from the chimney cupboard
and sat down at the table. She wrote rapidly, her lips pursed, her
head to one side. Then she folded the paper, wrote on the outside,
and arranged it conspicuously on the top of a leather-covered Bible
on the centre of the table. "There!" said she. "It ain't regular, I
s'pose, an' I ain't had any lawyer, but I guess they'd carry out my
wishes if anything happened to me. I ain't got nobody but Cousin
Rhoda Hill, an' Cousin Maria Bennet; an' Rhoda don't need a cent, an'
Maria'd ought to have it all. This house will make her real
comfortable, an' my clothes will fit her. I s'pose I'd have this
dress on, but my black alpaca's pretty good. I s'pose Mis' Babcock
would laugh, but I feel a good deal easier about goin'."

Amanda waited again; she blew out her lamp, for the early dawnlight
strengthened. She listened intently for wheels, and looked anxiously
at the clock. "It would be dreadful if we got left, after all," she
said.

Suddenly the covered wagon came in sight; the white horse trotted at
a good pace. Adoniram held the reins and his wife sat beside him.
Mrs. Green peered out from the back seat. "Mandy! Mandy!" Mrs.
Babcock called, before they reached the gate. But Amanda was already
on the front door-step, fitting the key in the lock.

"I'm all ready," she answered, "jest as soon as I can get the door
locked."

"We ain't got any too much time," cried Mrs. Babcock.

Amanda went down the path with her basket and black valise and
parasol. Adoniram got out and helped her into the wagon. She had to
climb over the front seat. As they drove off she leaned out and gazed
back at the house. Her tortoise-shell cat was coming around the
corner. "I do hope the cat will get along all right," she said
agitatedly. "I've fed her this mornin', an' I've left her enough milk
till I get back--a saucerful for each day--an' Abby said she'd give
her all the scraps off the table, you know, Mis' Green."

Mrs. Babcock turned around. "Now, Amanda Pratt," said she, "I'd like
to know how in creation you've left a saucerful of milk for that