rter spoke for herself in a good, round voice of contradiction. "_Why_
couldn't she? How much does she charge, Miss Ann?"

"_Not one cent!_" replied Ann, with a thrill of triumph; "_if_ she'll
come, she'll come free; but I don't know whether she will come."

"Emmy, you go and ask Mrs. Conner to ask her to come; ask Mrs. Conner to
come too," said Mrs. Darter, resuming her feeble voice. "I want to see
if that ankle _is_ cured. You'll stay with me, Miss Ann?"

So, almost too quickly for her to realize the position, Emmy found
herself on her way to the Conners'. A fragrant odor wafted Mrs. Conner's
occupation through the open kitchen door before Emmy crossed the
threshold to behold her skimming a great kettle of plum jam. "Landy,
land! it's Emmy Darter already!" she cried, with a jolly laugh. "I
thought I could git that plum jam ready to take off before you'd come. I
knew it wouldn't be long when I saw Miss Ann Bigelow trotting across
lots. Your ma's sent for Miss Keith, I guess. Well, it's lucky Conner
has the hosses hitched in the wagon, and he can take us right over. I'll
call Hedwig to take off the jam, and Miss Keith--"

"But, Mrs. Conner, please tell me about yourself," urged Emmy. "_Did_
she cure you?"

Mrs. Conner's left eyelid twitched in company with the left corner of
her shapely mouth. "You ask me no questions, Emmy, and I'll tell you no
lies; but you can make up your mind Miss Keith can cure your ma--if
she's _let_!" These orphic sentences were dropped with a slow and
ponderous nod of the head, and ceased at the entrance of Miss Keith. The
young lady looked very pretty in a crisp pink and white dimity frock
and a large white hat with pink roses. She had none of the airs of an
adept or a seer. There was nothing occult or intruding on the
imagination in her presence. She sat on the front seat beside Mr. Conner
and talked about cantaloupe melons. Mrs. Conner was amazingly silent; it
was plain, however, from no unkindly motives, since often she cast an
affectionate glance on Emmy, and, as the wagon stopped in front of the
Darter gate, she patted the girl's shoulder, saying: "It's all going to
come right, _I_ guess. Jest you mind us and keep still."

Emmy's bewilderment deepened, but she said, "Yes'm," in her docile way,
and followed Mrs. Conner and Miss Keith down the walk, leaving Mr.
Conner to chuckle over some unknown mirth of his own, in the wagon.

Mrs. Darter, so Miss Bigelow told them, had been dozing