ught him, didn't
he?" said she, in a mollifying tone.

Amanda nodded. "He's a good deal older than I am," said she.

"It's queer how some things that ain't of no account really in the
world last, while others that's worth so much more don't," Mrs.
Babcock remarked, meditatively. "Now, there's that bird there,
lookin' jest as nice and handsome, and there's the one that bought
him and brought him home, in his grave out of sight."

"There's a good many queer things in this world," rejoined Amanda,
with a sigh.

"I guess there is," said Mrs. Babcock. "Now you can jest look round
this room, an' see all the things that belonged to your folks that's
dead an' gone, and it seems almost as if they was immortal instead of
them. An' it's goin' to be jest the same way with us; the clothes
that's hangin' up in our closets are goin' to outlast us. Well,
there's one thing about it--this world ain't _our_ abidin'-place."

Mrs. Babcock shook her head resolutely, and began to fold up her
work. She rolled the unbleached cloth into a hard smooth bundle, with
the scissors, thimble, and thread inside, and the needle quilted in.

"You ain't goin'?" said Amanda.

"Yes, I guess I must. I've got to be home by half-past five to get
supper, an' I thought I'd jest look in at Mis' Field's a minute. Do
you s'pose she's to home?"

"I shouldn't wonder if she was. I ain't seen her go out anywhere."

"Well, I dun'no' when I've been in there, an' I dun'no' but she'd
think it was kinder queer if I went right into the house and didn't
go near her."

Amanda arose, letting the mat slide to the floor, and went into the
bedroom to get Mrs. Babcock's bonnet and light shawl.

"I wish you wouldn't be in such a hurry," said she, using the village
formula of hospitality to a departing guest.

"It don't seem to me I've been in much of a hurry. I've stayed here
the whole afternoon."

Suddenly Mrs. Babcock, pinning on her shawl, thrust her face close to
Amanda's. "I want to know if it's true Lois Field is so miserable?"
she whispered.

"Well, I dun'no'. She don't look jest right, but she an' her mother
won't own up but what she's well."

"Goin' the way Mis' Maxwell did, ain't she?"

"I dun'no'. I'm worried about her myself--dreadful worried. Lois is a
nice girl as ever was."

"She ain't give up her school?"

Amanda shook her head.

"I shouldn't think her mother'd have her."

"I s'pose she feels as if she'd got to." Mrs. Babcock dropped her
v