preserves and fried ham, but in all that, would you ever have thought
that she'd find a second to make biscuit, and tea cakes herself? Plain
as preaching I heard her say to Mrs. Freshett: "I do hope and pray
that Mr. Pryor will come out of it right, so we can take him home, and
teach him to behave himself; but if he's gone this minute, I intend to
have another decent meal for Shelley to offer her young man; and I
don't care if I show Mrs. Pryor that we're not hungry over here, if we
do lack servants to carry in food on silver platters."

"That I jest would!" said Mrs. Freshett. "Even if he turns up his
toes, 'tain't YOUR funeral, thank the Lord! an' looky here, I'd jest as
soon set things in a bake pan an' pass 'em for you, myself. I'll do
it, if you say the word."

Mother bit her lip, and fought her face to keep it straight, as she
said confidential-like: "No, I'm not going to toady to her. I only
want her to see that a meal really consists of food after all; I don't
mind putting my best foot foremost, but I won't ape her."

"Huccome they to fuss like this, peaceable as Mr. Stanton be, an'
what's Shelley's beau to them?"

"I should think you could tell by looking at Pryors," said mother.
"He's their mystery, and also their son. Shelley met him in Chicago,
he came here to see her, and ran right into them. I'll tell you about
it before you go. Now, I must keep these applications hot, for I've
set my head on pulling Mr. Pryor out so that he can speak, and have a
few decent years of life yet."

"But why did the old devil--EX-cuse me, I mean the old GENTLEMAN, want
to shoot your man?"

"He didn't! I'll tell you all about it after they're gone."

"I bet you don't get shet of them the night," said Mrs. Freshett.

"All right!" said mother. "Whatever Dr. Fenner thinks. I won't have
Mr. Pryor moved until it can't hurt him, if he stays a week. I blame
her quite as much as I do him; from what I know. If a woman is going
to live with a man, there are times when she's got to put her foot
down--flat--most unmercifully flat!"

"Ain't she though!" said Mrs. Freshett; then she and mother just
laughed.

There! What did I tell you? I feel as good as if father had patted me
on the head and bragged on me a lot. I THOUGHT mother wouldn't think
that Mr. Pryor was ALL to blame, and she didn't. I figured that out by
myself, too.

Every minute Mr. Pryor grew better. He breathed easier, and mother
tilted on her t