bread; and there's the beans, Diana; to-morrow's the day
for the beans; and they ain't looked over yet, nor put in soak. And
you'd better get out some codfish and put that on the stove. I don't
know what to have for breakfast if I don't have that. You'd best go and
get off your dress, first thing; that's my counsel to ye; and save
washing _that_ to-morrow."

Diana went into no reasoning, on that subject or any other; but she
managed to do all that was demanded of her without changing her dress,
and yet without damaging its fresh neatness. In silence, and in an
uncomfortable mute antagonism which each one felt in every movement of
the other. Odd it is, that when words for any reason are restrained,
the feeling supposed to be kept back manifests itself in the turn of
the shoulders and the set of the head, in the putting down of the foot
or the raising of the hand, nay, in the harmless movements of pans and
kettles. The work was done, however, punctually, as always in that
house; though Diana's feeling of mingled resentment and shame grew as
the evening wore on. She was glad when the last pan was lifted for the
last time, the key turned in the lock of the door of the lean-to, and
she and her mother moved into the other part of the house, preparatory
to seeking their several rooms. But Mrs. Starling had not done her work
yet.

"When's that young man comin' again?" she asked abruptly at the foot of
the stairs, stopping to trim the wick of her candle, and looking into
the light without winking.

"I don't know--" Diana faltered. "I don't know that he is ever coming
again."

"Don't expect him either, don't you?"

"I think it would be odd if he didn't," said Diana bravely, after a
moment's hesitation.

"Odd! why?"

Diana hesitated longer this time, and the words did not come for her
waiting.

"Why odd?" repeated Mrs. Starling sharply.

"When people seem to like a place--they are apt to come again," said
Diana, flushing a little.

"_Seem to_," said Mrs. Starling. "Now, Diana, I have just this one
thing to say. Don't you go and give that young fellow no encouragement."

"Encouragement, mother!" repeated Diana.

"Yes, encouragement. Don't you give him any. Mind my words. 'Cause, if
you do, I won't!"

"But, mother!" said Diana, "what is there to encourage? I could not
help going to show the brook to him to-day."

"You couldn't?" said Mrs. Starling, beginning to mount the stairs.
"Well, it is good to practise. Su