They
clutched each other, and watched the red gush of flame. The barn
burned as if lighted at every corner.

"Are there any cows or horses in it?" panted Mrs. Babcock. "Oh, ain't
it dreadful? Are there any, Mis' Field?"

"I dunno," said Mrs. Field.

She stood like a grim statue, the red light of the fire in her face.
Lois was sobbing. Mrs. Green had put an arm around her.

"Don't, Lois, don't," she kept saying, in a solemn, agitated voice.
"The Lord will overrule it all; it is He speakin' in it."

The women watched while the street filled with people, and the barn
burned down. It did not take long. The storm began to lull rapidly.
The thunder came at long intervals, and the hail turned into a gentle
rain. Finally Mrs. Field went out into the kitchen to prepare supper,
and Lois followed her.

"I never see anything like the way she acts," said Mrs. Babcock
cautiously.

"She always was kind of quiet," rejoined Mrs. Green.

"Quiet! She acts as if she'd had thunder an' lightnin' an' hail an'
barns burnt down every day since she's been here. I never see anybody
act so queer."

"I 'most wish I'd stayed to home," said Amanda.

"Well, I wouldn't be backin' out the minute I'd got here, if I was
you," returned Mrs. Babcock sharply. "It's comin' cooler, that's one
thing, an' you won't need that white sacque. I should think you'd
feel kinder glad of it, for them shoulder seams did look pretty long
to what they wear 'em. An' I dare say folks here are pretty dressy. I
declare I shall be kinder glad when supper's ready. I feel real faint
to my stomach, as if I'd like somethin' hearty. I should have gone
into one of them places in Boston if things hadn't been so awful
dear."

But when Mrs. Field finally called them out to partake of the meal
which she had prepared, there was little to satisfy an eager
appetite. Nothing but the berries for which she had toiled so hard, a
few thin slices of bread, no butter, and no tea, so little sugar in
the bowl that the guests sprinkled it sparingly on their berries.

"I'll tell you what 'tis," Mrs. Babcock whispered when they were
upstairs in their chambers that night, "Mis' Field has grown tight
since she got all that money. Sometimes it does work that way. I
believe we should starve to death if we stayed here long. If it
wa'n't for gittin' my money's worth, I should be for goin' home
to-morrow. No butter an' no tea after we've come that long journey. I
never heard of such a thing."