tresses, be so largely endowed--that beats me. Well," in a tone
of resignation, "one will know that some day, doubtless."

After a bit of conversation about the progress of Jonas to
convalescence, and the chance of his being able to use his arm,
Mrs. Verstage approached the topic uppermost in her mind.

"I should like to hear all about it, from your own mouth, Matabel.
There is such a number of wonderful tales going round, all
contradictory, and so, of course, all can't be true. Some even
tell that you fired the gun and wounded Jonas. But that is
ridiculous, as I said to Maria Entiknap. And actually one story
is that my Iver was in it somehow. Of course, I knew he heard
there was an accident. You told him when you was fetched away.
Who fetched you from the Ship? I left you in the kitchen."

"Oh, mother," said Mehetabel, "all the events of that terrible
night are confused in my head, and I don't know where to begin--nor
what is true and what fancy, so I'd as lief say nothing about it."

"If you can't trust me--" said Mrs. Verstage, somewhat offended.

"I could trust you with anything," answered Mehetabel hastily.
"Indeed, it is not that, but somehow I fell, and I suppose with
fright, and a blow I got in falling, every event got so mixed with
fancies and follies that I don't know where truth begins and fancy
ends. For that reason I do not wish to speak."

"Now look here," said Mrs. Verstage, "I've brought you a present
such as I wouldn't give to any one. It's a cookery book, as was
given me. See what I have wrote, or got Simon to write for me,
on the fly-leaf.

"'Susanna Verstage, her book,
Give me grace therein to look.
Not only to look, but to understand,
For learning is better than houses and land.
When land is gone, and money is spent,
Then learning is most excellent.'

"And the reason why I part with this Matabel, is because of that
little conversation we had together the other day at the Ship.
I don't believe as how you and Bideabout get along together first
rate. Now I know men, their ins and outs, pretty completely, and
I know that the royal road to their affections is through their
stomachs. You use this book of receipts, they're not extravagant
ones, but they are all good, and in six months Jonas will just
about worship you."

"Mother," said Mehetabel, after thanking her, "you are very kind."

"Not at all. I've had experience in husbands, and you're, so to
speak, raw to it. They a