, when she was in Elliot."

"Well, all I've got to say is, if anybody had asked me, I'd have said
it was took for you yesterday. Why, Mis' Field, what's the matter?"

"There ain't anything the matter."

"Why, you look dreadfully."

Mrs. Field's face was pale, and there was a curious look about her
whole figure. It seemed as if shrinking from something, twisting
itself rigidly, as a fossil tree might shrink in a wind that could
move it.

"I feel well 'nough," said she. "I guess it's the light."

"Well, mebbe 'tis," replied Amanda, still looking anxiously at her.
"Of course you know if you feel well, but you do look dreadful white
to me. Don't you want some water, or a swaller of cold tea?"

"No, I don't want a single thing; I'm well enough." Mrs. Field's
tone was almost surly. She held out her hand for the photograph. "I
must be goin'," she continued; "I ain't got my dustin' done. I jest
come across this, an' I thought I'd show it to you, an' see what you
said."

"Well, I shouldn't have dreamed but what it was yours; but then you
an' your sister did look jest alike. I never could tell you apart
when you first came here."

"Folks always said we looked alike. We always used to be took for
each other when we was girls, an' I think we looked full as much
alike after our hair begun to turn. Mine was a little lighter than
hers, an' that made some difference betwixt us before. It didn't show
when we was both gray."

"I shouldn't have thought 'twould. Well, I must say, I shouldn't
dream but what that picture was meant for you."

Mrs. Field took her way out of the room.

"How's Lois this mornin'?" Amanda called after her.

"About the same, I guess."

"I saw her goin' out of the yard this mornin', an' I thought she
walked dreadful weak."

"I guess she don't walk any too strong."

When Mrs. Field was in her own room she stowed away the photograph in
the shell box; then she got a little broom and brushed the shell-work
carefully; she thought it looked dusty in spite of her rubbing.

When the dusting was done it was time for her to get her dinner
ready. Indeed, there was not much leisure for Mrs. Field all day. She
seldom sat down for long at a time. From morning until night she kept
up her stiff resolute march about her house.

At half-past twelve she had the dinner on the table, but Lois did not
come. Her mother went into the sitting-room, sat down beside a
window, and watched. The town clock struck one. Mr