She handed the recovered reins to her sister-in-law, and the two ladies resumed their journey and their conversation.

"I never was so scared in all my life," stated Lois Daggett, straightening her hat which had a.s.sumed a rakish angle over one ear.

"I should think you'd be afraid to drive such a horse, Abby. What in creation would have happened to you if I hadn't been in the buggy?"

"As like as not he wouldn't have took a notion with his tail, Lois, if I'd been driving him alone," hazarded Mrs. Daggett mildly.

"Dolly's an awful knowing horse.... Git-ap, Dolly!"

"Do you mean to tell me, Abby Daggett, that there horse of Henry's has took a spite against _me?_" demanded the spinster.... "Mebbe he's a mind-reader," she added darkly.

"You know I didn't mean nothin' like that, Lois," her sister-in-law a.s.sured her pacifically. "What I meant to say was: I got so interested in what you were saying, Lois, that I handled the reins careless, and he took advantage.... Git-ap, Dolly! Don't you see, Lois, even a horse knows the difference when two ladies is talking."

"You'd ought to learn to say exactly what you mean, Abby," commented Miss Daggett.

She glanced suspiciously at the fresh striped muslin, which was further enhanced by a wide crocheted collar and a light blue satin bow.

"Where'd you say you were goin' this afternoon, Abby?"

"I said out in the country a piece, Lois; it's such a nice afternoon."

"Well, _I_ should think Henry'd be needing the horse for his business. I know _I'd_ never think of asking him for it--and me a blood relation, too, trying to earn my bread and b.u.t.ter tramping around the country with Famous People."

Mrs. Daggett, thus convicted of heartless selfishness, sighed vaguely. Henry's sister always made her feel vastly uncomfortable, even sinful.

"You know, Lois, we'd be real glad to have you come and live with us constant," she said heroically.... "Git-ap, Dolly!"

Miss Daggett compressed her thin lips.

"No; I'm too independent for that, Abby, an' you know it. If poor Henry was to be left a widower, I might consider living in his house and doing for him; but you know, Abby, there's very few houses big enough for two women.... And that r'minds me; did you know Miss Orr has got a hired girl?"

"Has she?" inquired Mrs. Daggett, welcoming the change of subject with cordial interest. "A hired girl! ...Git-ap, Dolly!"

"Yes," confirmed Miss Daggett. "Lute Parsons was telling me she came in on th' noon train yesterday. She brought a trunk with her, and her check was from Boston."

"Well, I want to know!" murmured Mrs. Daggett. "Boston's where _she_ came from, ain't it? It'll be real pleasant for her to have somebody from Boston right in the house.... G'long, Dolly!"

"I don't know why you should be so sure of that, Abby," sniffed Miss Daggett. "I should think a person from right here in Brookville would be more company. How can a hired girl from Boston view the pa.s.sin'

and tell her who's goin' by? I think it's a ridiculous idea, myself."

"I shouldn't wonder if it's somebody she knows," surmised Mrs.

Daggett. "'Twould be real pleasant for her to have a hired girl that's mebbe worked for her folks."

"I intend to ask her, if she comes to the door," stated Lois Daggett.

"You can drop me right at the gate; and if you ain't going too far with your buggy-riding, Abby, you might stop and take me up a spell later. It's pretty warm to walk far today."

"Well, I was thinkin' mebbe I'd stop in there, too, Lois," said Mrs.

Daggett apologetically. "I ain't been to see Miss Orr for quite a spell, and--"

The spinster turned and fixed a scornfully, intelligent gaze upon the mild, rosy countenance of her sister-in-law.

"Oh, _I see!_" she sniffed. "That was where you was pointing for, all the while! And you didn't let on to me, oh, no!"

"Now, Lois, don't you get excited," exhorted Mrs. Daggett. "It was just about the wall papers. Henry, he says to me this mornin'--...

Git-ap, Dolly!"

_"'Henry says--Henry says'!_ Yes; I guess so! What do you know about wall papers, Abby? ...Well, all I got to say is: I don't want n.o.body looking on an' interfering when I'm trying to sell 'Lives of Famous People.' Folks, es a rule, ain't so interested in anything they got to pay out money fer, an' I want a clear field."

"I won't say a word till you're all through talkin', Lois," promised Mrs. Daggett meekly. "Mebbe she'd kind of hate to say 'no' before me.

She's took a real liking to Henry.... Git-ap, Dolly.... And anyway, she's awful generous. I could say, kind of careless; 'If I was you, I'd take a leather-bound.' Couldn't I, Lois?"

"Well, you can come in, Abby, if you're so terrible anxious,"

relented Miss Daggett. "You might tell her, you and Henry was going to take a leather-bound; that might have some effect. I remember once I sold three Famous People in a row in one street. There couldn't one o' them women endure to think of her next door neighbor having something she didn't have."

"That's so, Lois," beamed Mrs. Daggett. "The most of folks is about like that. Why, I rec'lect once, Henry brought me up a red-handled broom from th' store. My! it wa'n't no time b'fore he was cleaned right out of red-handled brooms. n.o.body wanted 'em natural color, striped, or blue. Henry, he says to me, 'What did you do to advertise them red-handled brooms, Abby?' 'Why, papa,' says I, 'I swept off my stoop and the front walk a couple of times, that's all.' 'Well,' he says, 'broom-handles is as catching as measles, if you only get 'em th' right color!' ... Git-ap, Dolly!"

"Well, did you _ever!_" breathed Miss Daggett excitedly, leaning out of the buggy to gaze upon the scene of activity displayed on the further side of the freshly-pruned hedge which divided Miss Lydia Orr's property from the road: "Painters and carpenters and masons, all going at once! And ain't that Jim Dodge out there in the side yard talking to her? 'Tis, as sure as I'm alive! I wonder what _he's_ doing? Go right in, Abby!"

"I kind of hate to drive Dolly in on that fresh gravel," hesitated Mrs. Daggett. "He's so heavy on his feet he'll muss it all up. Mebbe I'd better hitch out in front."

"She sees us, Abby; go on in!" commanded Miss Daggett masterfully. "I guess when it comes to that, her gravel ain't any better than other folks' gravel."

Thus urged, Mrs. Daggett guided the sulky brown horse between the big stone gateposts and brought him to a standstill under the somewhat pretentious _porte-cochere_ of the Bolton house.

Lydia Orr was beside the vehicle in a moment, her face bright with welcoming smiles.

"Dear Mrs. Daggett," she said, "I'm so glad you've come. I've been wanting to see you all day. I'm sure you can tell me--"

"You've met my husband's sister, Miss Lois Daggett, haven't you, Miss Orr? She's the lady that made that beautiful drawn-in mat you bought at the fair."

Miss Orr shook hands cordially with the author of the drawn-in mat.

"Come right in," she said. "You'll want to see what we're doing inside, though nothing is finished yet."

She led the way to a small room off the library, its long French windows opening on a balcony.

"This room used to be a kind of a den, they tell me; so I've made it into one, the first thing, you see."

There was a rug on the floor, a chair or two and a high mahogany desk which gave the place a semblance of comfort amid the general confusion. Miss Lois Daggett gazed about with argus-eyed curiosity.

"I don't know as I was ever in this room, when Andrew Bolton lived here," she observed, "but it looks real homelike now."

"Poor man! I often think of him," said kindly Mrs. Daggett. "'Twould be turrible to be shut away from the sunshine f'r even one year; but poor Andrew Bolton's been closed up in State's prison fer--l' me see, it mus' be goin' on--"

"It's fifteen years, come fall, since he got his sentence," stated the spinster. "His time must be 'most up."

Lydia Orr had seated herself in an old-fashioned chair, its tall carved back turned to the open windows.

"Did you--lose much in the bank failure, Miss Daggett?" she inquired, after a slight pause, during which the promoter of Famous People was loosening the strings of her black silk bag.

"About two hundred dollars I'd saved up," replied Miss Daggett. "By now it would be a lot more--with the interest."