Mrs. Bridges drew a long breath noiselessly.
“Well,” she said, absent-mindedly, “come again, Mis’ Hanna. An’ be sure you always fetch your work an’ stay the afternoon.”
“Well, I will. But it’s your turn to come now. Where’s Isaphene?”
“I guess she’s makin’ a fire ’n the cook-stove to get supper by.”
“Well, tell her to come over an’ stay all night with Julia some night.”
“Well—I will.”
Mrs. Bridges went into the kitchen and sat down, rather heavily, in a chair. Her face wore a puzzled expression.
“Isaphene, did you hear what we was a-sayin’ in the bedroom?”
“Yes, most of it, I guess.”
“Well, what do you s’pose was the reason she never thought o’ me a-takin’ Mis’ Lane in? Says she’d thought o’ ev’rybody else.”