"That's his way," said Uncle Peabody. "They had hard work to convince him that he knew enough to be Surrogate."
"Big men have little conceit—ayes!" said Aunt Deel with a significant glance at me.
The candles had burned low and I was watching the shroud of one of them when there came a rap at the door. It was unusual for any one to come to our door in the evening and we were a bit startled. Uncle Peabody opened it and old Kate entered without speaking and nodded to my aunt and uncle and sat down by the fire. Vividly I remembered the day of the fortune-telling. The same gentle smile lighted her face as she looked at me. She held up her hand with four fingers spread above it.
"Ayes," said Aunt Deel, "there are four perils."
My aunt rose and went into the but'ry while I sat staring at the ragged old woman. Her hair was white now and partly covered by a worn and faded bonnet. Forbidding as she was I did not miss the sweetness in her smile and her blue eyes when she looked at me. Aunt Deel came with a plate of doughnuts and bread and butter and head cheese and said in a voice full of pity:
"Poor ol' Kate—ayes! Here's somethin' for ye—ayes!"
She turned to, my uncle and said:
"Peabody Baynes, what'll we do—I'd like to know—ayes! She can't rove all night."
"I'll git some blankets an' make a bed for her, good 'nough for anybody, out in the hired man's room over the shed," said my uncle.
He brought the lantern—a little tower of perforated tin—and put a lighted candle inside of it. Then he beckoned to the stranger, who followed him out of the front door with the plate of food in her hands.