y? She made other remarks upon
it, so apt that Mrs. Claxon gave her a sort of permissive invitation to
look about the whole lower floor, ending with the kitchen.

Mrs. Lander sat down there while Mrs. Claxon drew from the pipes a glass
of water, which she proudly explained was pumped all over the house by
the wind mill that supplied the power for her husband's turning lathes.

"Well, I wish mah husband could have tasted that wata," said Mrs.
Lander, as if reminded of husbands by the word, and by the action of
putting down the glass. "He was always such a great hand for good, cold
wata. My! He'd 'a liked youa kitchen, Mrs. Claxon. He always was such
a home-body, and he did get so ti'ed of hotels. For all he had such an
appearance, when you see him, of bein'--well!--stiff and proud, he was
fah moa common in his tastes--I don't mean common, exactly, eitha--than
what I was; and many a time when we'd be drivin' through the country,
and we'd pass some o' them long-strung-out houses, don't you know, with
the kitchen next to the wood shed, and then an ahchway befoa you get
to the stable, Mr. Landa he'd get out, and make an urrand, just so's
to look in at the kitchen dooa; he said it made him think of his own
motha's kitchen. We was both brought up in the country, that's a fact,
and I guess if the truth was known we both expected to settle down and
die thea, some time; but now he's gone, and I don't know what'll become
o' me, and sometimes I don't much care. I guess if Mr. Landa'd 'a seen
youa kitchen, it wouldn't 'a' been so easy to git him out of it; and
I do believe if he's livin' anywhe' now he takes as much comfo't in
my settin' here as what I do. I presume I shall settle down somewhe's
before a great while, and if you could make up youa mind to let your
daughta come to me for a little visit till spring, you couldn't do a
thing that 'd please Mr. Landa moa."

Mrs. Claxon said that she would talk it over with the child's father;
and then Mrs. Lander pressed her to let her take Clementina back to
the Middlemount with her for supper, if they wouldn't let her stay the
night. After Clementina had driven away, Mrs. Claxon accused herself to
her husband of being the greatest fool in the State, but he said that
the carriage was one of the Middlemount rigs, and he guessed it was all
right. He could see that Clem was wild to go, and he didn't see why she
shouldn't.

"Well, I do, then," his wife retorted. "We don't know anything ab