"What splendid fruit, Miss Hepsy!" said the visitor after a moment's silence; "I have seen none like it in Pendlepoint this fall."
"It's well enough," said Miss Hepsy, a little mollified. "Your folks all well, Miss Goldthwaite?"
"Thank you, yes; and papa and mamma are coming from New York next week, if the weather keeps fine. I can hardly sleep or eat for joy, Miss Hepsy; and Frank is almost as bad."
"You be like children about your father and mother yet," said Miss Hepsy brusquely. "I reckon you'd better not marry in Pendlepoint, or there'll be an end to your goin' home any more."
Carrie laughed.
"I don't see why it should come to an end then, Miss Hepsy," she said. "Even married people get a holiday sometimes."
"I guess they don't see many o' them," replied Miss Hepsy. "I think you're a fool to marry, anyway, Miss Goldthwaite, when the parson thinks such a heap of you."
Carrie laughed again, more amused than ever.
"Talking of holidays, Miss Hepsy," she said, "I want you to give this patient little maiden one, and Tom too."
"Not if I know it," answered Miss Hepsy promptly.