"Worse!" declared Miss Major.
"We don't have pie or pudding now—ever!" put in Miss Crilly eagerly. "And we can't talk at table, only just to ask for things!"
"Oh, my!" cried Mrs. Tenney. "What does possess her!"
"Seven devils, I guess!" laughed Miss Crilly.
"Better put it seven hundred and seven!" flashed Polly.
They laughed, and the talk went on. Miss Sterling watched the hostess. She seemed years older than bright, cheery Mrs. Dick of the Home. Sometimes she let the talk pass her by, or she only flung in a bitter little speech. In the course of the afternoon, when the guests had wandered away from the dreary "front room" to the barn, the hennery, the garden, the orchard, Mrs. Tenney contrived to gather together her special cronies, Mrs. Albright, Miss Crilly, Miss Sterling, and Polly.
"Come inside! I want to talk with you," she told them.
"Say," she began, in lowered voice, "do you s'pose there's any chance in Miss Sniffen's taking me back?"
Astonishment was plain on the faces before her.
"Oh, I s'pose you think that's queer!" She laughed nervously. "But I just can't live here any longer! I was the biggest fool to marry that man! I thought I was going to have a good home and plenty to eat and to wear. We do have enough to eat—and good enough, but, my! he hasn't bought me anything except one gingham apron since I came, and he growled over that! He's the limit for stinginess! When I was at the Home I used to say I'd rather live in an old kitchen if 't was mine, and now I've got the old kitchen I'd exchange back again in a jiffy! Do you s'pose she'd take me!"