"My suz! You back a'ready?"
"Yes, Susanna."
"Well, what you so mealy-mouthed about? You ain't nigh so peart and hop-skippin' as you was when you started. Didn't you get a good welcome to the Mansion? Wasn't Madam to home? Don't squeeze that basket so tight. Eunice won't admire to have it smashed."
"I won't smash it, Susanna."
Katharine wondered why she should be so afraid of this sharp-tongued woman when she hadn't been really afraid of the disreputable tramp. She wondered why she couldn't burst forth with her story, which certainly was a strange one, as sure of sympathy here as she would have been with Aunt Eunice. Perhaps that dear, if dignified, old lady had returned, and if so she would go straight to her.
"Has aunty come, Widow Sprigg?"
"No. She hain't. Nor likely to. Word's come, though, that we needn't look for her till we see her. That sick woman is so glad to have her she's goin' to keep her over Sabbath, an' I warn you, what with Moses on my hands an' the hull house to look after, I want no monkey-shines from you. Well, what did Madam say? Didn't she think my butter was as good as hers? Hey? What?"
Hope died in Katharine's breast. At first she had loved Susanna best, better than Miss Maitland. Now, for just one look into Eunice's face!
But she wouldn't be a coward. Feeling that she had done something very wrong, yet not knowing how she could have helped it, she looked straight into Susanna's eyes, and answered:
"I haven't seen Madam Sturtevant. I didn't go there."