"They do say, Susan," said Gran'ma Mullins wisely, "as he'll end up by marrying you. Everybody says so."
Susan shook her head hard. "It's not for me to say. Affairs has been going on and off between Jathrop and me for too many years now for me to begin to discuss them. What is to be will be, and what isn't to be can't possibly be brought about."
Gran'ma Mullins sighed again, and Mrs. Lathrop went on rocking. As she rocked, she viewed Susan Clegg from time to time in a speculative manner. It was many, many years since she had suggested to Susan the idea of marrying Jathrop.
It was the next morning that Mrs. Macy re-appeared on the scene. The insurance men had unsealed all the houses, and the result was her discovery.
"Well, you could drown me for a new-born kitten, and I'd never open my eyes in surprise after this," Susan expounded to the friends at the hotel. "But Mrs. Macy always was peculiar; she was always give to adventures. To think of her living there as snug as a moth in a rug, cooking her meals on the little oil-stove—"
"But where—?" interposed Mrs. Lathrop.
"I'm telling you. She's been sleeping in a good bed, too, and being perfectly comfortable while we've all been suffering along of waiting for her to come back."
"But Susan—" cried Gran'ma Mullins, wide-eyed.
"I'll tell you where she was; she was in your house—that's where she was. The cyclone just gave her a lift over your woodshed, and then it set her down pretty quick. She says she came to earth like a piece of thistledown on the other side. Her story is as your back door was open, so she run in, and then it begun to rain, so she saw no reason for going out again. When it stopped raining, she looked out and seen nobody. That isn't surprising, for we wasn't there. She thought that it was strange not seeing any lights, but she started to go home, and she says what was her feelings when she fell over her own roof in the path. She says of all the strange sensations a perfectly respectable woman can possibly ever get to start to go home and fall over her own roof is surely the most singular. She says she was so sleepy she thought maybe she was dreaming, and not having any lantern, it was no use trying to investigate, so she just went back to your house and went to bed in my bed. She says she dreamed of Hiram's ears all night long. I'd completely forgot Hiram's ears, which is strange, for they was far and away the most amusing things in this community. I think that way he could turn 'em about was so entertaining. That way he used to cock 'em at you always give him the air of paying so much attention. They say he never cocked 'em at Lucy but once—"