"There, mother," Will said, "I fear your head has been turned by the Irish girls you've sent away."
"It's a mercy I'm spared to come back at all," Mrs. Mixon said. "We all have more mercies than we deserve."
"I'm not so sure of that," her mistress retorted. "Speak for yourself. I don't know as I have any more than I'm entitled to."
It was not in accordance with Bathalina's principles to exhibit any satisfaction at being once more in her old home; but, as she indulged in the most sad of her minors, it was inferred that she was well pleased. She continually bolted into the sitting-room to ask some question, apparently for the sake of feasting her eyes upon the mistress of the house.
"What do you put in squash-pies for seasoning?" she inquired, interrupting an earnest conversation between Mrs. Sanford and Mrs. Brown; the latter having, in these stormy autumn days, just got to her spring calls.
"Why, Bathalina, you know as well as I!" was the answer.
"Well, supposin' I do. Can't I have the satisfaction of askin' when I've been living in tumbledown Irishy places over to Samoset?"
"The girl must have been wandering in her mind when she went off to be married," remarked grandmother Sanford, smiling serenely.
"She was wandering in her body, at least," replied Patty.