wa'n't
sech as I'd ben brought up to, either."

Lady Macbeth had leaned forward and was clasping her knees, thus
unconsciously widening the expanse of pink gingham visible beneath the
white robe. She was glad she had modified her Shakespeare to suit her
listener, though "Out, _dreadful_ spot!" was not nearly as
bloodcurdling as the original.

Miss Becky, meanwhile, had not paused in her narration.

"There was a long-winded young man," she was saying, "him that sarsed
his girl, 'n' he went slashin' round, killin' folks off in a kind of
an aimless way, an'----"

"It must have been _Hamlet_ that you saw!" cried Nannie, much excited.
"Oh, I do so want to see _Hamlet_!"

"Yes, _Hamlet_; that was it. And then there was a ghost in it that
sent the shivers down my back; 'n' a king 'n' queen; 'n' the king
looked for all the world like Deacon Ember, Jenny Lowe's grandpa, that
died before you was born; 'n' I declare, I _did_ enjoy it! 'Twas jest
like bein' alive in history times! Why, I ain't had sech shivers down
my spine's the ghost give me, sence that day, till I seen you standin'
there tryin' to wash your hands without any water, 'n' your eyes
rollin' fit to scare the cat!"

"Would you like to have me do it again for you, Miss Becky?" asked
Nan, springing to her feet with renewed ardour. And straightway she
stationed herself at the end of the little room and began propelling
herself forward with occasional erratic halts.

The September sunshine came slanting through the tiny panes of glass
at the window, and touched with impartial grace the youthful figure
of distracted mien, the worsted tidies on the haircloth sofa, and the
neat alpaca occupant of the stuffed "rocker." Again the sewing was
forgotten, and Miss Becky's glittering spectacles were fixed upon the
tragic queen. As the queer little figure stalked solemnly down the
room, eyes fixed in a glassy stare, hands wringing one another
distressfully; as a moving wail rent the air, to the effect that "all
the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten this little hand," a most
agreeable succession of shivers made a highway of Miss Becky's spine.

"Why don't you ever go to the theatre now, Miss Becky?" Nannie asked,
when, having laid aside her tragic toggery, she came in her own person
to take her leave. "I should think you'd like to go again."

"Oh, yes, I should be reel tickled to go again, but I ain't got nobody
to go with, and, well--there's other reasons besides."

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